Shadows and Regrets
by Boo1
Summary: Faith and the gang deal with Buffy's death.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
Author: Boo   
Category: Drama   
Rated: R   
Spoilers: Takes place shortly, maybe a month, after The Gift.   
Summary: This can be read as a stand alone fic even though it's a sequel to Into The Mirror, also posted here. You'll figure out what's different about Faith soon enough. The gang deals with Buffy's death, each in their own way.   
Disclaimers: Joss Whedon owns all these people and likes to laugh at me.   
Distribution: Ya want it, take it - just let me know.   
Feedback: My drug of choice.   
  
PART ONE   
  
Faith lashed out with her fist, ducked and quickly spun around, connecting with her foot. She sprang up into a defensive position, automatically drawing her right arm back to get more force behind her punch. And then she froze.   
  
"You know, if this is a bad time, I could come back later. As in later in the week."   
  
"What? Oh, um...sorry. My bad, as you say. A momentary lapse of concentration. Let's continue, shall we?" smiled Giles awkwardly. He lifted his boxing gloves up again as if they were very heavy and braced himself for Faith's attack.   
  
Faith stood there for a moment, one side of her mouth raised in a half frown.   
  
"Nah, let's call it a night. You're heart's just not into it. I'll make an early sweep and then go back to check on Dawn."   
  
Giles lowered his arms as if he was a little boy who had just been scolded by his teacher. He turned his hands palm up towards Faith so that she could untie the laces of the gloves.   
  
"I'm sorry, Faith. I'm just a little...distracted," shrugged Giles, not looking at her. Faith began to untie the strings.   
  
"Hey, these hours can't be easy for you. I mean, you work all day at the shop here and then train with me at night. You're probably just tired. Doesn't help that I can't get here during the day," added Faith, shaking her head as she pulled the first glove off and tossed it onto the floor.   
  
Giles simply stood there, lost in his own thoughts. Faith tugged on the remaining glove to get his attention and let it fall to the floor next to the other glove.   
  
"Wanna talk about it?" asked Faith, one eyebrow raised.   
  
"What? Oh, um, no. No, it's nothing...really," smiled Giles.   
  
Faith reached out and gently held his forearm.   
  
"Giles, you...you never let me in. Talk to me," said Faith softly. It was a request, not a demand.   
  
Giles stopped smiling, even though he knew she was genuinely concerned.   
  
"You should go patrol. We'll talk tomorrow," said Giles, lowering his arm.   
  
"Hey!" snapped Faith. She had his full attention now. Even so, she spoke in a whisper.   
  
"I can't replace her, Giles. And...and I miss her too, you know? So...talk to me. You understand what I'm trying to say?" asked Faith hopefully.   
  
Giles took a deep breath and nodded.   
  
"Let's go sit down," he said.   
  
Faith tried to not look worried as she followed him over to the table.   
  
"Uh, Giles? Is there anything in back for me to drink?"   
  
Giles winced and didn't even try to hide it.   
  
"I...I'm sorry. I meant to go to the butcher's before but, but I...forgot," sighed Giles.   
  
"No big. I hardly broke a sweat anyway. Tell ya what, why don't we get out that single malt scotch you're so fond of?" asked Faith with a mischievous grin.   
  
Giles stared at her for a moment, not saying anything.   
  
"Well, it's not like I'm ever going to turn twenty one! And you're beat. I know you have...have a little. At night. To help you sleep. Just to take the edge off," added Faith, seeing Giles' eyes open a little wider.   
  
"Is it that obvious?" asked Giles dejectedly.   
  
"Only to someone who's close to you. Only to someone...someone who cares," smiled Faith.   
  
And now Giles smiled. He walked behind the checkout counter and brought out a half empty bottle. He placed it on the counter, surprised at how much was already gone but not letting Faith see his concern. Looking under the counter again he found two glasses. Sitting down at the table across from Faith, he poured them both a full glass.   
  
"Sip this, young lady. You're still going on patrol later," warned Giles with an empty glare.   
  
Faith raised her glass to his, not hesitating with her toast.   
  
"To Buffy," offered Faith.   
  
"To Buffy," nodded Giles, clinking his glass to hers. He drained most of his glass, closing his eyes as the smooth liquor warmed his throat. Faith took more than a sip, suddenly surprised that she liked scotch.   
  
"You seem a little distracted yourself, Faith. Do you want to talk about it?" challenged Giles as he refilled his glass.   
  
"Fair enough," agreed Faith, watching him pour. She took another mouthful of the scotch and then set her glass on the table in front of her, rubbing it back and forth between her hands.   
  
"It's about Dawn," said Faith.   
  
"Is she still mad at you?" asked Giles warily.   
  
"No. No, I don't think so. But she hasn't forgiven me. Don't think she ever will," frowned Faith.   
  
"Faith, it wasn't your fault that you weren't there when...when it happened. Buffy herself asked you to go. Angel, Wesley, Cordelia...they had all disappeared and she was concerned. She couldn't have known..."   
  
"But that's just it! She did know. If I had been there I could've helped somehow. It didn't have to happen! But she...Buffy wanted me out of harm's way so that, so that there would be someone left to take care of Dawn. In case..."   
  
Faith didn't finish. They both took another sip from their glasses, not looking at one another. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Such an insignificant detail, something easily unnoticed. A clock that still ticked. A little touch that marked this place as his...and one that comforted Faith, made her feel at home. Like she really was part of his world now.   
  
"Dawn told me, Giles. About being the Key."   
  
Giles visibly stiffened, glanced at Faith and then quickly looked away. He raised his glass to his lips but then put the glass back down.   
  
"I would have told you, Faith. But Dawn didn't want you to know. I was simply respecting her wishes."   
  
"Whatever," shrugged Faith. She didn't look at Giles.   
  
"Faith, I wanted to tell you. I..."   
  
"Giles, I don't have a problem with the not telling part. It's, it's...haven't you stopped to think about what this means?" asked Faith.   
  
"I, I don't understand."   
  
"The whole time I was with the Mayor...how can you not...Giles, there was only one thing anchoring me to this world. Only one thing that made me feel like I still belonged. Dawn. I never tried to hurt her. I loved her. And now I find out that none of it was real. None of it," sighed Faith, taking another gulp of scotch.   
  
"Faith, how does...I'm sorry, I don't understand..."   
  
"Giles, don't you see? There was no good in me! If Dawn was really Buffy's sister I would've gone after her. We both know I probably...no, I would have...killed her," said Faith, lowering her voice noticeably.   
  
"Dawn is her sister!" yelled Giles, startling Faith.   
  
Giles took another sip of his drink. When he spoke again he was much calmer.   
  
"It doesn't matter how she came here. They have the same blood. She is as real as either of us. And the good was always there. Not even those monks, as powerful as their magicks were, could change evil into good. I believe they were helping you."   
  
"Helping me? How?" asked Faith skeptically.   
  
"By giving you a connection to us, a, a way back. I told Buffy the very same thing," nodded Giles.   
  
Faith looked at her glass and then glanced back up at Giles. Seeing her doubt, he smiled for her.   
  
"A Slayer's nature is to help others. You are a Slayer," reminded Giles.   
  
"A Slayer's nature is to kill. The helping part is just a bonus," said Faith flatly.   
  
Giles was going to argue with her but thought better of it. He couldn't handle Faith in the same way he had dealt with Buffy. But he knew how to reach her.   
  
"There's more, isn't there?" asked Giles. Faith looked up at him and he saw the fear, the hesitation in her eyes.   
  
"Yeah," admitted Faith softly, nodding her head.   
  
Giles waited patiently for her to continue.   
  
"It's the others...Willow, Xander...all of them. I'm, I'm just being compared to her, you know? And it's not fair. I'm expected to be her, fight the good fight, kill the demons, the vampires...and, okay, that's my job. I'm not supposed to fail. Not supposed to mess up. So I don't get any credit for doing...what I mean is, when I do mess up, I think, I think that's what they expect too."   
  
Faith looked up at Giles. She was surprised to see him smiling.   
  
"If I understand you, what you're saying is that if you do well, it's no big, as you say. It's all been done before. You're living up to standards that were set by..."   
  
"Hey, it's not like I was expecting a parade or anything!" interrupted Faith. She took another drink from her glass.   
  
Giles smiled again.   
  
"What?" demanded Faith.   
  
"Faith, they won't let you in...because by accepting you they would be admitting that she's really gone. Give them time. Every one of them has to deal with this in their own way. Be patient," added Giles, reaching across the table and running his hand through her hair.   
  
Faith nodded but didn't smile, caught off guard by his tender touch. He sensed her discomfort and withdrew his hand.   
  
"So...we were going to talk about you. What's bothering you? Besides...well, you know, the obvious," shrugged Faith, suddenly sorry she had hinted at Buffy's ghost. The dead Slayer was very much still with them. It was just that no one talked about that.   
  
"Yes, well...where to begin? Perhaps I should simply express how I feel," admitted Giles bravely.   
  
"Or you could just tell me in English," smiled Faith. And Giles returned her smile.   
  
"Faith, I believe I have been failing you in my duties as your Watcher."   
  
Giles raised his hand to silence her protest.   
  
"I have not been training you to the best of my abilities, my research has been at best shoddy if not downright inefficient...oh, right. In English," agreed Giles.   
  
Faith stared at him, afraid to say anything.   
  
"My heart just isn't into this anymore and it's not fair to you. We both know why. I'm going to get you killed. And you deserve so much more than that. I think...I think..."   
  
Giles reached across the table and put a hand over Faith's cold hand.   
  
"I think it would be best if another Watcher were assigned to you," whispered Giles.   
  
Faith withdrew her hand as if she had been stung and glared at him.   
  
"What!? You gotta be kidding me here!" yelled Faith.   
  
"Faith, I..."   
  
"No! You are my Watcher. I don't want anyone else. Giles, I, I can't trust someone else. I...Giles, I need you," pleaded Faith.   
  
"But..."   
  
"But nothing! Okay, maybe we need to slow down some, kick back a bit. We can take a break from training. Maybe you're just burned out. Maybe..."   
  
Faith stopped, seeing how sad Giles suddenly seemed. And now she reached across the table and held his hand. When she spoke she whispered her words.   
  
"Giles, please...don't do this. I don't want to be alone."   
"And I don't want to lose you. That's why I think it's best..."   
  
"Who gives a damn what's best!?" yelled Faith, standing up. She turned her back to him so that he wouldn't see how upset she was.   
  
Giles simply sat there, staring at the glass near his hand. Faith turned to look at him but he didn't look up. He spoke before she could.   
  
"Quentin Travers once pointed out to me something that was painfully obvious. It was right there in front of me but I didn't see it. He said...he said that I had a father's love for Buffy. And even though he said that in front of her, we never spoke of it again. Ever," sighed Giles.   
  
He took another gulp of scotch and glanced up at Faith. Faith chewed on her lower lip and waited.   
  
"I wanted you to know...so that you might understand...Faith, I, I feel the same way about you," blurted out Giles. "That's why I have to do what's best for you. And that's never the easiest path to take, is it?" smiled Giles.   
  
Faith swallowed and choked back the tears she felt coming. Very slowly she sat down, never taking her eyes off of Giles. He tried to smile for her but it didn't work.   
  
"You are so much like her...did you know that?" asked Giles, looking away and taking a deep breath.   
  
"If that's the way you feel, then there's something you need to know. Because only you would understand this," began Faith.   
  
"Oh?"   
  
Faith hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The room suddenly seemed smaller, confining, as if she were an unwelcome guest, an intruder. The ticking of the clock was distant, a distraction.   
  
"Before...when I, I...oh man, this is so hard for me," said Faith, closing her eyes and shaking her head.   
  
"Faith, you can tell me anything. Anything," reassured Giles. "Just say..."   
  
"I'm scared." Faith leaned back into the chair and watched him to gauge his reaction.   
  
Giles pushed his glass to one side. He reached for his glasses, changed his mind and leaned back into his chair.   
  
"Do you know why?" he asked softly.   
  
Faith barely nodded. Giles patiently waited for her to explain.   
  
"There are times...I think I'm starting to enjoy the killing. Liking it too much. Hell, I'm craving it. Like before. With the Mayor."   
  
Faith watched his face but Giles gave no clue as to what he was thinking.   
  
"It's like a drug. Sometimes, sometimes I can't get to sleep unless I've made a kill. Giles, there's no way I can really explain it. I mean, how do you describe getting off on being afraid? This power, this...this gift, has a price. So you can't leave me. Not now. If I tried to explain this to the Council they'd lock me up. You know they would," winced Faith.   
  
"Buffy told me very much the same thing. How she liked to hunt, how she couldn't sleep. I didn't think it would start so soon with you. You should have told me before now," said Giles.   
  
"Yeah. I should have," swallowed Faith. "So, how did you help B?"   
  
Giles sat further back in his chair and rested his two index fingers under his chin. He glanced at the shelves behind her, heavy with books. They always expected him to know the answers to their questions or at least to know where to search for them. But these tomes could hold nothing more than blank sheets of paper and still they wouldn't be as empty as he felt.   
  
"There's some advanced training techniques we had started...mind control, focus...I'll review my notes. She got past it or, or at least seemed to control these...urges. But do you know what I think helped Buffy the most?" asked Giles.   
  
Faith shook her head.   
  
"Her friends. Buffy was never really alone. She always had someone to turn to. Except...except when it mattered the most. And I wasn't there for her."   
  
"Giles, you didn't fail her! I did!" snapped Faith.   
  
Giles leaned forward in his chair and took a deep breath as he reached for his glass.   
  
"I told her that she might have to kill Dawn, that, that she would have to kill her sister. That's the last memory Buffy has of me," choked Giles.   
  
"Wrong, tweed man."   
  
Giles' eyes opened wide in surprise.   
  
"You say we were alike. I agree. She knew how you felt, Giles. Just like I do."   
  
Giles had to stand and turn his back to her so that she wouldn't see his face.   
  
"I won't leave you alone, Faith," said Giles, his voice cracking.   
  
"Thank you," whispered Faith. She raised her glass and emptied it in one gulp. Once again she heard the ticking of the clock. It brought little comfort. Faith wiped a tear from her eye, telling herself it was from the heat of the scotch.   
  
*****   
  
She rolled out of the way of the next punch and sprang up onto her feet. This was wrong. She hadn't been this scared in a fight since...well, she couldn't remember when. Her left arm hurt and she could barely raise it. Throwing a weak punch that was easily blocked, the vampire unexpectedly hesitated, giving her a chance to run. But why? Was it some kind of trick?   
  
As quickly as the opportunity presented itself, it passed. The vampire threw her head back and laughed cruelly, eagerly anticipating what would happen next.   
  
"Stupid bitch! You had your chance. Did you really expect another? Come on, you're making this too easy! Let's have a kiss."   
  
She knew now that it would have been a mistake to run. This vampire was just playing with her. And enjoying it just a little too much. Her base instincts took over and with a growl she charged, fangs bared to rip into her neck. She never saw the stake deftly shift from one hand into the other.   
  
As the vampire exploded into ash, Faith closed her yellow eyes and threw her head back, screaming her satisfaction, giving voice to an emotion that couldn't be expressed with words, something so primal that only another predator could understand her passion.   
  
But then the moment no longer held her, no longer overwhelmed...her rage dissipated like water fading into sand. And was replaced by a sense of awe, a sensation that almost made her feel...alive. Faith laughed and slid the stake into her back pocket.   
  
The night was quiet. Suddenly, too quiet. Faith sniffed at the air and growled, not even having to look. She felt it, like the vibration of a ripple on the surface of a lake. She knew. There was another presence out here, another like her. And that could only mean one thing. Faith spit in the direction of the approaching shadow.   
  
Pat had felt it, but only for a moment. She knelt down and touched the damp grass. Turning her hand over, she saw the fresh ash coating her skin, felt its warmth. She knew Faith had been close by. The ash simply confirmed this. And she knew that Faith was now far from her...and not only in a physical sense. With a sigh and a shake of her head, the living Slayer, the one who breathed and could move in the sunlight, stood and walked away, her head hung low. The night, once again, was quiet.   
  
*****   
  
Faith reddened her lips and then tossed the stick of lipstick into the drawer, quickly closing it. But not quickly enough. She turned and saw Dawn standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and grinning her disapproval.   
  
"Stealing my favorite lipstick again?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Um...sorry? I'll get my own soon, I promise. I like that color," replied Faith sheepishly.   
  
"It's alright. I mean, it's not like I wear it very often," sighed Dawn.   
  
"So...how'd I do?" frowned Faith.   
  
Dawn tilted her head and smiled. She walked over to Faith and pulled a tissue from the box on the dresser.   
  
"Better," encouraged Dawn, dabbing at Faith's upper lip with the tissue. "Roll your lips together."   
  
Faith did as she was told and Dawn nodded her approval.   
  
"Want some eye shadow?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Sure. 'Cept nothing too dark. My skin's pale enough. I don't want to look like a raccoon," said Faith, causing Dawn to laugh.   
  
"Sit down," commanded Dawn as she dug through her makeup box. Faith sat on the edge of the bed. Dawn held a color up and Faith nodded in agreement. Faith closed her eyes and Dawn went to work.   
  
"So...you seeing Matthieu again tonight?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Well, I'm going to the Fish Tank. Maybe he'll be there."   
  
"Maybe?," smiled Dawn. "He's the bouncer. Kinda has to be there if he wants to keep his job. I can't believe that dive is still there."   
  
"It's not so bad," replied Faith.   
  
"Right," answered Dawn sarcastically. "Hey, hold still, I'm almost done. What do you see in this guy anyway?"   
  
"I don't know," shrugged Faith. "He's...different."   
  
Dawn looked at Faith as if she just noticed what the Slayer was wearing; black leather pants, a deep red crop top, matching black leather vest...she had become oblivious to Faith's taste in clothes a long time ago. Now Dawn wondered if she was trying to impress this guy. No, she always dressed like this. Still...   
  
"All done," announced Dawn. "Different how?"   
  
Faith opened her eyes.   
  
"Well, for one thing he knows how to have fun. He's, he's very confident without being cocky. Plus he's got this wicked tat of the Arizona desert on his left arm. Ya know, cactus, sunbleached steer skull, tumbleweed...goes from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder," smiled Faith.   
  
Dawn narrowed her eyes.   
  
"Okay...um, so what's he like to do for fun?" asked Dawn uneasily.   
  
"See, that's the cool part. Matthieu's into rock climbing and surfing and, and hang gliding. Always pushing himself. Likes to live on the edge," added Faith enthusiastically.   
  
"So he likes to flirt with death," said Dawn, looking Faith up and down. The gesture wasn't lost on Faith.   
  
"I hope so," teased Faith.   
  
Dawn hesitated a moment and looked down at the floor.   
  
"Does...does he know? About you, I mean?"   
  
Faith didn't answer. Instead she patted the bed with her hand and Dawn sat down beside her.   
  
"So, how was your day?" asked Faith. Dawn smiled.   
  
"You would have liked it, Faith. The air was so clear the sky seemed to be a deeper blue. And the clouds...they weren't all fuzzy. No, they were sharp, almost solid. A lot cooler today, too. It was...you know how in late September you'll get a warm day and you'll think, 'wow, where did the summer go?' because it's so nice out and you want to go down to the beach?"   
  
Faith smiled and nodded.   
  
"Well, this was like that. Except today, it was a hint of autumn. And...and you don't want the fall to come. You just want to hang on to today, 'cause everything is moving so fast. It was stupid, I know, but I, I felt kinda sad. Worrying about my summer being over while it's still here," sighed Dawn, shaking her head.   
  
"No, it's not stupid. I remember...I know how you feel," said Faith, putting her arm around Dawn. Dawn smiled but wasn't comforted.   
  
"So...how was your night?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Well, I was going to patrol down by the docks. Haven't been down there in a while. But I never made it there."   
  
Dawn looked up at Faith, both confused and concerned.   
  
"I went to the beach," grinned Faith.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Yep. Just me and the ocean. Oh, and some kids making out in their cars. But it was quiet. Wasn't much of a breeze so the surf was calm. The moon was out and it was almost full. It was so bright, reflecting off the water...ever see clouds at night? The moon does something to them. It...it almost seemed like daylight," whispered Faith.   
  
Dawn slipped her hand around Faith's waist and gave her a little squeeze.   
  
"I just sat there. For a long time, too. Wish I could see the water again, the way it should be. At night, it's not even gray, never mind blue. It's just sorta, I don't know...colorless. A little less than it should be."   
  
Faith looked at Dawn to see if she understood. And Dawn nodded as if she knew what Faith was thinking.   
  
"Oh, don't tell Giles I wasn't patrolling, okay? He..."   
  
"Wouldn't understand," finished Dawn.   
  
"Right," nodded Faith in agreement.   
  
She stood up and touched Dawn on her arm, then pointed to a pad of paper on Dawn's dresser.   
  
"Hey, you started to sketch again? It's good. Um...what is it?" frowned Faith. Dawn smiled.   
  
"Not sure yet. Just started fooling around with it to pass the time. It's...something to do," shrugged Dawn. "So, you have any artistic talents?"   
  
"Me?" laughed Faith. "I can't even draw a breath."   
  
"Faith!" groaned Dawn, rolling her eyes but laughing anyway.   
  
"Sorry. Couldn't pass that one up. Thanks for the makeup help," said Faith softly. Dawn nodded but looked away from her.   
  
"Should I leave the light on for you?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Why not? Think I'm going to get lucky?" asked Faith with a smile.   
  
Dawn was going to say something but she hesitated, her face turning red.   
  
"Yeah, leave the light on. Uh, not that I need it, of course. But...but it's nice when I see it. Lets me know you're thinking of me," said Faith. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, she leaned forward and kissed Dawn on the forehead.   
  
"Don't stay up too late," reminded Faith as she left.   
  
"Eat before you go out, will ya?" yelled Dawn.   
  
"Then I'd have to brush my teeth again!" laughed Faith from down the stairs.   
  
Dawn just sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the eye shadow in her hand, shaking her head. When she heard the front door close she stood and tossed the eye shadow onto the dresser. She walked out into the hall, pausing by Faith's room to glance in. New curtains, a new bedspread...neither of which Buffy would have approved of. But it was no longer her sister's room.   
  
Dawn clicked the hall light off and got ready for bed.   
  
*****   
  
It was cool, almost cold with the breeze blowing off the water. But the sun was warm on her skin and it was relaxing to be here again. Willow leaned back, ran her toes through the sand and looked at Tara. Tara noticed and smiled. And Willow smiled back, knowing that Tara's smile was meant for her and her alone. Lost in something as simple and powerful as a glance, Willow hadn't even realized that she was holding her breath.   
  
Dawn was lying on her stomach on a blanket next to Tara, probably asleep. Xander and Anya sat across from them. Willow followed their gaze down to the water. They were watching Riley as he tossed a football to Buffy. Suddenly he ran at her and grabbed her around the waist, obviously threatening to throw her into the water. Buffy's laughter made Willow smile again. It was so good to hear her laugh again. Oh how she had missed that.   
  
Willow raised her eyes and noticed that some dark clouds were forming. Yes, the wind was picking up...a thunderstorm was approaching. Willow sat up and looked at Xander to see if he had noticed the sudden change in the weather. And his look froze her. He seemed...sad. Why would he feel sad? They were all here, together, and it was a beautiful day...   
  
Willow looked behind her again. But the beach was empty. Buffy and Riley were gone. It took a moment for that to sink in. Buffy was gone...   
  
"Willow?"   
  
Willow felt her hand on her shoulder. She wouldn't cry. Not this time. She wouldn't.   
  
"Willow, we should go."   
  
Willow stood up and closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears. She felt Tara slowly turn her around and pull her close in a comforting hug. Tara held her tightly and stared at the ground behind her. Buffy's grave had fresh flowers on it. It always did.   
  
"I'm sorry. I, I know I said I wouldn't cry this time, but..."   
  
"Honey, it's okay," whispered Tara. "It's okay."   
  
Willow buried her face in the hollow of Tara's shoulder, her body trembling with sobs. Tara kissed her cheek.   
  
"We should go. I know we haven't seen any vampires lately, but it isn't safe here at night," said Tara.   
  
Willow nodded and stepped away from her, wiping her eyes with both hands. Tara stared at her for a moment but then looked away.   
  
"Don't say it," said Willow softly.   
  
"But...but you promised," protested Tara.   
  
"It's too soon!" barked Willow. Tara winced and looked down at the ground.   
  
"I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to yell," said Willow, reaching out and taking both of Tara's hands into hers.   
  
"Willow, you really need to talk to someone. You have to get past this. We agreed..."   
  
"There's only one person I want to talk to," whispered Willow, not looking at Tara.   
  
Tara let go of Willow's hands and glared at her.   
  
"No. It's not right," said Tara sternly.   
  
"I don't need to talk to a counselor. I...I just need to say goodbye," sniffed Willow, tears welling up in her eyes again. She raised her eyes and looked at Tara. Tara bit her lower lip.   
  
"Please, Tara. I, I just need to know she's at peace. I need..."   
  
Willow stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Tara's waist. Her face was a breath away from Tara's lips. Tara began to cry, a cold tear running down her cheek.   
  
"I promise you, if this...afterwards, I mean...if I'm still hurting, I'll talk to someone. I promise. But I need this. And I need your help," pleaded Willow.   
  
Tara closed her eyes and slowly nodded, once again embracing Willow.   
  
"You know I can't deny you anything. But...but I'm afraid, you know?" whispered Tara.   
  
Willow hugged her tighter and smiled.   
  
"I know. So am I. But it will be alright. I know it will. I just know it," comforted Willow.   
  
Tara reluctantly nodded.   
  
"We, we just...won't tell anyone. Okay?" whimpered Tara.   
  
It was as if Willow hadn't heard her.   
  
"Thank you, Tara," said Willow, kissing her cheek. "Thank you."   
  
Tara opened her eyes and again looked at Buffy's grave. She slowly exhaled, puffing out her cheeks.   
  
*****   
  
Giles reluctantly opened his eyes, wondering where he was, trying unsuccessfully to focus. The phone. The phone was ringing. He pushed himself up from the table, not bothering to look for his glasses.   
  
"Hello?" mumbled Giles into the phone, the single word he uttered slurred.   
  
"Rupert. I didn't wake you, did I?"   
  
"Quentin," answered Giles, suddenly becoming awake if not sober. "How nice of you to ring me up."   
  
Quentin Travers didn't say anything but Giles knew he was smiling.   
  
"Well?" sighed Giles.   
  
"It's confirmed. Another Slayer has not been called," said Travers as if he was reading an address from a phone book.   
  
"That's...not unexpected," replied Giles.   
  
"No, it isn't. That gift now belongs to Pat. However, there may be another explantion, however unlikely."   
  
Gift? Her death would be a gift? A chill gripped Giles and he wondered if Travers realized what memories that one word had unleashed.   
  
"Wh...what? Another...Quentin, what are you talking about?" asked Giles.   
  
"Rupert, there's something I need you to do. Something that you might consider to be, shall we say, most unpleasant..."   
  
END OF PART ONE


	2. Two

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART TWO   
  
She had been standing there, motionless, still like the breezeless night. Faith heard him approaching but only acknowledged this with the slightest tilt of her head, indifferent to the point of not even turning around to face him.   
  
"Hey, Spike."   
  
"Slayer," nodded Spike, pausing for a moment by her shoulder. He knelt down and replaced the barely wilted flowers with a fresh bouquet.   
  
"Um, how did you know it was me and not some bad ass looking for a fight?" asked Spike, standing in front of her to block her view of the grave. Faith still stared ahead as if he weren't there.   
  
"I smelled the flowers," shrugged Faith, finally focusing her eyes on him.   
  
"Oh. Right," nodded Spike.   
  
"They're nice. She would've liked them," said Faith.   
  
Spike almost smiled. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as suddenly neither of them knew what to say.   
  
"I know you're seeing Dawn. Oh, she didn't tell me. And it's okay. I, I won't tell the others," frowned Faith.   
  
"I don't give a bloody damn what you tell 'em," snapped Spike.   
  
Faith smiled.   
  
"Sure you do. You just don't know it yet."   
  
"Dawn's so-called friends don't deserve the pedestal you put them on," sneered Spike.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Did Dawn tell you how alone she was?" asked Spike.   
  
"What?"   
  
"We were there, with...just standing there! They were all too wrapped up in their own grief to move...to so much as put an arm around little bit, see if she was okay..."   
  
Spike looked back at the grave for a moment.   
  
"Bloody hell, Slayer! She was her sister! And she was just standing there, all alone..."   
  
Spike couldn't look at Faith for a moment.   
  
"Spike, you said we," said Faith softly.   
  
"Wh-what?"   
  
"You said we were there. You're a part of them now," said Faith.   
  
Spike didn't look happy but he didn't disagree.   
  
"You...you didn't..."   
  
"I could barely stand!" yelled Spike. He suddenly had the urge to smoke but resisted. He never smoked here. Buffy never liked smoke.   
  
"But no, I didn't...I didn't," answered Spike, hanging his head.   
  
"Spike?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Do you...do you think we could've...if we had been there, would she have died anyway?" asked Faith softly.   
  
"I was there," answered Spike sharply.   
  
"Yeah. Sorry. I only meant..."   
  
"What's worse, Slayer? Having failed...or not knowing if you would have?"   
  
Faith looked down for a moment, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his.   
  
"It's the same thing, isn't it?" whispered Faith.   
  
Spike opened his mouth to reply but had no answer for that. He nodded and Faith turned away from him.   
  
"Goodnight, Spike," she said, not looking back as she walked away.   
  
"Goodnight, Faith."   
  
Faith hesitated, missing a step, but then kept walking. She didn't look back.   
  
Spike just stood there, not looking at the grave, not looking at the wilted flowers in his hand. He just stood there, watching, listening...simply keeping her company. And Spike heard him approaching even before he sensed his beating heart.   
  
His racing heart.   
  
Unlike Faith, he turned around, curious about this unwanted visitor, this intrusion. And then Spike drifted back, fading into the shadows.   
  
By his stumbling walk Spike could see that Giles, although not drunk, was far from sober. Whatever he carried in his hand was alternately dragged behind or leaned upon for support. At the foot of the grave he paused, opening his hand as if forgetting it had even held something.   
  
Giles leaned forward, hands on his knees as if the effort to get here had winded him. He couldn't raise his eyes even to read her name upon the granite. Just being here made his stomach churn, the bile rising warm in his throat, his rumpled shirt clinging wet to his back. He fell to his knees, ashamed that he was here, knowing that he could never...   
  
"Fool," he whispered, shattering the oppressive silence. The air seemed heavier, only allowing him shallow gasps of breath.   
  
His fingers clawed at the dew soaked grass as the first tears came. He closed his eyes tightly, his upper body wracked by silent sobs. Raising his fist above his head, Giles drove it down hard into the cold earth. Pain stabbed through his arm up to his elbow. But this was a pain he could understand.   
  
For the first time since her death he gave in to his anger, the rage that he had held back, always there, roiling just under the surface. He smashed his fist down again. And again. Tearing into the dirt now with both hands, Giles dug fiercely, animal-like, without thought, without remorse. He ignored the pain as his flesh tore against stone, ripped against the hard packed darkness.   
  
Darkness.   
  
Giles froze, his breath drawn through clenched teeth. And he looked up at her tombstone.   
  
The moan that escaped him came not from shame but cut deeper, formed from a simple, primal emotion. Fear. Stronger than pain. Much stronger than Giles could hope to be now.   
  
Giles tried weakly to stand, failed, and crawled away using the backs of his hands for support. Finally he managed to stand. And Giles ran.   
  
Spike slowly shook his head, staring at the desecration of Buffy's grave. He bent down and picked up the shovel Giles had dropped, glancing in the direction her watcher had gone. Tossing the tool away in disgust, Spike reached into his duster and pulled out his cigarettes, quickly lighting one.   
  
"Bloody hell," he mumbled out loud, shaking his head again.   
  
Spike decided to follow Giles too see if he got home safely. He owed him that much.   
  
*****   
  
Faith slid onto the stool and nodded at the man behind the bar.   
  
"How ya doin', Ed?" smiled Faith.   
  
Ed shrugged indifferently as he placed a beer in front of Faith.   
  
"Slow night and the Dodgers blew another lead. Extra innings," he said, motioning with his head to the television above him. "They'll blow it. Again."   
  
"I keep tellin' ya, even if they make the playoffs, your boys aren't beating the Red Sox," said Faith as she tossed a five onto the bar. Ed looked at the bill and glared at her.   
  
"You know your money's no good here. Put that away," he ordered, tossing a bar rag over his shoulder. Faith was going to argue but thought better of it. She tucked the bill back into her pocket.   
  
"Thanks," she smiled, raising the glass to her lips. Ed leaned towards her and whispered.   
  
"Hey, don't be thinking I'm a nice guy or anything. I have my own unsavory motives. You're the only pretty face ever walks in here."   
  
Faith smiled.   
  
"Ed?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"You're not fooling anyone. You're a nice guy...and you're full of shit," said Faith with a straight face. Ed laughed and walked down to the other end of the bar to serve another customer.   
  
Faith spun around on her stool and looked around. It was a slow night. Only seven people and at least four of them Faith had seen here before. The red headed guy that Ed was serving a beer to stared at her but she ignored him. She didn't see Matthieu and frowned without realizing it.   
  
Turning back to her beer, she raised the glass to her lips...but didn't drink. Instead she smiled. Matthieu had just come in through the door behind her and was looking at her. Faith didn't care that he had obviously noticed her smile. She put the beer back down on the bar.   
  
"Hey," nodded Faith, suddenly trying to act indifferent.   
  
"You decided to come back. Again," smiled Matthieu.   
  
"What can I say? Something keeps drawing me back," answered Faith, smiling back.   
  
"Must be the ambiance," said Matthieu.   
  
"Nah, I only drink beer."   
  
He stared at her with a blank expression.   
  
"Um, that was an attempt at a joke, however lame," winced Faith.   
  
Matthieu smiled again and walked past her.   
  
"Not too crowded tonight. Maybe you'll get off early," said Faith, picking up her beer again. Matthieu stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.   
  
"Was that an attempt at an offer, however lame?"   
  
Faith blinked, but only once.   
  
"Maybe," she smiled. Faith fought the urge to watch his face to see his reaction and instead took a big gulp from her glass. When she did look back at him he had wandered over to one of the pool tables, talking to another one of the regulars. She didn't mind watching him. Especially when he didn't notice.   
  
Matthieu was only a few inches taller than her and a little on the skinny side. But his love of sports gave his taut muscles definition and his skin was deeply tanned under his sweatshirt. He had cut off the sleeves. Surprisingly he didn't have an earring but his brown hair was tied off into a short ponytail that went just past the base of his neck. Faith was ashamed that when she went home after first meeting him she couldn't remember the color of his eyes. They were green. Envious of his tan, she hadn't even noticed.   
  
Glancing back at Ed, Faith noticed that the guy at the end of the bar was still staring at her. She shook her head and concentrated on her beer. And then she noticed that Ed was walking over to her.   
  
"Let me guess, George wants to buy me a beer," sighed Faith.   
  
Ed only shrugged.   
  
"Man just doesn't take a hint, does he?" complained Faith.   
  
"You know his story," began Ed.   
  
"Yeah, I've heard it a hundred times and not only from him."   
  
"So, let him buy you a beer. What harm is there in that?" asked Ed.   
  
"Feed a stray and it might just follow you home," countered Faith.   
  
"Your call," replied Ed, trying not to smile.   
  
"Fine. But I'm only doing this for you. Maybe you'll get a good tip. Besides, I was done with this one," added Faith, handing him the empty glass.   
  
Ed did smile and poured her another beer. Faith nodded at George and mouthed the words 'thanks'. She was surprised to see him smile, nod in return...and then look away.   
  
Faith decided to see how well Matthieu was at billiards.   
  
*****   
  
She had fallen asleep this time but once again Dawn was awake after only about an hour. She decided to get up and go to the bathroom, maybe get a glass of milk. Her mother had always told her there was something in milk that would help her sleep. Dawn didn't turn the hall light on so as not to wake either Willow or Tara. Their room was right across from hers. The one that once belonged to her mother. Buffy and her mom...she shook her head, now fully awake.   
  
Dawn heard them talking and turned to walk away, more to avoid her own embarrassment rather than intrude on the two girl's privacy. But then she heard Willow raise her voice and couldn't help herself. She stopped to listen.   
  
"Tara, we can't tell anyone else."   
  
"But..."   
  
"No. They wouldn't understand."   
  
Silence. Dawn held her breath, worried that they might've heard her.   
  
"Tell you what, if you think we're getting in too far over our heads or, or you're uncomfortable after we find out what's involved, I'll tell Giles. Okay?" asked Willow.   
  
"Okay," repeated Tara, unconvinced.   
  
"It doesn't seem too complicated for a thingy-that-goes-bump-in-the-night kind of thingy," reassured Willow. "And I thought you were the one who wanted this kept a secret."   
  
"I did. But...getting into trouble is never hard, Willow. Not for us."   
  
"You underestimate our witchy ways," answered Willow, causing Tara to giggle.   
  
"Giles and Xander were involved in the enjoining spell. Don't you think contacting her would be easier if they were involved? I mean, you were, well...enjoined, ya know?" asked Tara.   
  
Dawn fell back against the wall behind her, leaning against it to overcome the weakness in her knees. The wall's hardness comforted her and stopped the room from spinning.   
  
"Yes, but that would involve telling them. Hence the no word. You think...you think Giles has anything with her blood on it? Not from when...but, well, even besides all the times she got beat up, there must've been some training sessions where she cut herself. It would be easier if..."   
  
"And what do you propose to do, ask him?" interrupted Tara.   
  
"No," whined Willow, her feelings obviously hurt.   
  
"Oh, honey, let's not talk about it any more tonight. We just need that book and I know Giles has a copy of it at the shop. We'll get it tomorrow."   
  
"Alright," pouted Willow as only she could.   
  
"Hey, you. Slide on over here," laughed Tara.   
  
Dawn saw the light under their door go out and her eyes grew wider than they already were. She quickly tiptoed away from the door.   
  
*****   
  
Faith banked the eight ball off the cushion and grinned as it dropped softly into the corner pocket. She slowly rolled her eyes over to Matthieu. He was shaking his head.   
  
"You've done this before," he accused.   
  
"I've done lots of things before. I just don't brag about 'em. Well, unless you ask," she teased.   
  
A slow song began to play. Faith turned around to see George over by the jukebox. And he was looking at her through the haze of the ever present cigarette smoke that made the bar seem even darker than it was. Even worse, he was now walking towards her.   
  
"Uh, Faith, maybe I should talk to..."   
  
"I've got it," winked Faith as she placed the poolstick on top of the faded green felt of the table. She turned to face the approaching George. His walk was unsteady at best.   
  
By now only Ed was left in the bar besides the three of them. And he was cleaning up, grateful to close a few minutes early tonight. The Dodgers had indeed lost.   
  
"Faith, would you like to dance with me?" asked George. Faith was surprised by his politeness.   
  
"George, it's getting late. And Ed wants to go home," she said sympathetically, nodding in Ed's direction.   
  
"Well, I'm going to hear this song before I leave anyway. It's just one song. And...and I did buy ya that beer," grinned George. He was missing several teeth.   
  
"And I appreciate that. But I was going to dance with Matthieu. Maybe some other time, okay?"   
  
Faith turned, hoping George would give up. And then she felt his hand firmly grip her arm. He spun Faith around so that she faced him. He was stronger than she had thought but was only caught off guard by his action. She was in no way afraid of him.   
  
"Tell ya what, how 'bout a goodnight kiss and we'll call it even...for tonight," he leered, looking down at her.   
  
"How about you take your hand off me before I seriously hurt you," demanded Faith calmly. She sensed Matthieu moving around the pool table towards her. Even Ed had stopped what he was doing and was watching them.   
  
"This is your last warning. Go outside, get on your hog and leave. Now!" warned Faith, calmly but firmly.   
  
George only tightened his grip and smiled. He leaned in towards Faith's face.   
  
"I'd rather get on you," he grinned.   
  
"Have it your way," shrugged Faith.   
  
Faith grabbed his wrist with her free hand and effortlessly but quickly forced George's arm up behind his back with a sickening wet snap. She pushed him away in disgust but he surprised her by spinning around and lashing out with a left hook. Faith caught his hand mid-punch and squeezed, being careful to apply just enough pressure to cause severe pain but not to break bone. He winced in agony but again surprised her by not crying out.   
  
Dropping down into a spin kick, Faith's foot caught him in the side of the face. George was flung violently backwards and he thudded against the wall next to the jukebox, causing the record to skip. He didn't move.   
  
Matthieu stood next to Faith, staring at George with his mouth open.   
  
"You're not like other girls, are you Faith?" he asked without taking his eyes off of George.   
  
"You have no idea," laughed Faith. Faith hesitated, then grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him to her, kissing him hard on the mouth. Teasing him with a guttural moan, she pulled away and winked.   
  
"Guess that proves you're not a guy dressed in drag," smirked Matthieu, glancing again at George.   
  
"What, you don't think these puppies are real?" said Faith, leaning forward to reveal some cleavage. "The name's Faith, not Lola."   
  
Matthieu tilted his head and studied the girl in front of him. Ed went back to cleaning the bar.   
  
"Not like other girls? Don't be so sure," smirked Matthieu. Very quickly he reached down and grabbed both of Faith's wrists, forcing them above her head as he pushed her back against the wall not far from George. He smiled ever so slightly and leaned in to kiss her. Faith closed her eyes and played along.   
  
Matthieu kissed her so softly, so tenderly that Faith's eyes flew open in surprise. Letting go of her arms, he slid one hand around her waist and eased the other around her neck, the palm of his hand resting on the base of her neck. So gently did he pull her body to his that it took Faith a moment to realize that her arms were still raised above her head. She wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders, her eyes closing again as she lost herself in his embrace.   
  
He reluctantly pulled away, gasping for breath. Faith slowly opened her eyes.   
  
"Wow. That was...unexpected," whispered Faith.   
  
"Hmm, not exactly the reaction I was looking for," said Matthieu, eyebrows raised.   
  
"Oh, I didn't mean...it's just, it's just been so long since I've been touched...I mean kissed. Kissed like that," corrected Faith, somewhat embarrassed.   
  
They stood looking at one another, suddenly not knowing what to say.   
  
"Um, aren't you forgetting something?" asked Faith.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"We were going to dance," said Faith, closing the distance between them again. "Wouldn't want to make a liar out of me now, would you?"   
  
"Oh! No. No, of course not," smiled Matthieu.   
  
Faith smiled back and pressed her cheek against his chest. He responded by hugging her tighter. They swayed back and forth, barely moving. Too soon Matthieu spoke up.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
"Mmm?"   
  
"The music stopped. A few minutes ago."   
  
"Oh. Hadn't noticed," lied Faith poorly but with a smile.   
  
Matthieu stood still and Faith hesitatingly looked up at him.   
  
"Want to go for a ride?" he asked. Faith frowned.   
  
"Okay, maybe not so unexpected after all."   
  
Matthieu laughed and held up one finger. He turned and knelt down behind the pool table. When he stood he handed Faith a motorcycle helmet.   
  
"Oh," nodded Faith, rolling her eyes.   
  
Matthieu smiled.   
  
"Sure. Um, sorry about the mess," said Faith, nodding towards George. "Didn't mean to be doing your job."   
  
"Not a problem. I like a girl who can take care of herself. And Ed will see that George gets home."   
  
"What's his story anyway?," asked Faith.   
  
"George? He's usually harmless. Vietnam vet, drinks too much...has his own demons to deal with," sighed Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah, I know what that's like," answered Faith distantly.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Oh, nothing," said Faith, shaking her head. "Ready to go?"   
  
Matthieu held out his hand. Faith only hesitated because she was surprised. She slipped her hand into his, trying not to smile.   
  
*****   
  
Matthieu cut the engine and booted the kickstand into place.   
  
"Is this the place?" he asked over his shoulder.   
  
"Yeah," nodded Faith, suddenly realizing that her arms were still wrapped around his waist. She let go both awkwardly and reluctantly. Matthieu stood, stepping over the bike and extending his forearm to help Faith up.   
  
"I'm impressed. A gentleman!" smiled Faith. Matthieu's only response was to wink at her.   
  
"That's a big house for just you and your niece," said Matthieu.   
  
"Never seemed too big before. See, uh, her mom and her big sis both passed away this year," explained Faith.   
  
"Oh wow!" grimaced Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah," frowned Faith. "A friend of mine became her legal guardian and lives here too. With her girlfriend."   
  
"That's nice," nodded Matthieu.   
  
"It helps. Makes the place seem...smaller, you know?" asked Faith, not expecting an answer. The fact that he didn't even blink when she mentioned Willow's girlfriend only raised Faith's estimation of Matthieu even higher.   
  
"So...I gotta get in, get breakfast started," said Faith.   
  
"Sure you don't want to take her out to a diner instead?" asked Matthieu.   
  
"No, like I said before, I'm not much of a morning person. And Dawn would sleep 'til noon if I didn't harass her," said Faith as she pulled off the helmet. "She has summer school. Needed to make up...well, with two funerals just months apart, you can imagine..."   
  
"No, I don't think I can," interrupted Matthieu. Faith nodded gratefully.   
  
"I had a great time. Thanks," smiled Faith.   
  
"Me too."   
  
Matthieu leaned in and closed his eyes. Faith nervously glanced at the sky and was again moved by how passionately gentle his lips were on hers. He pulled away and she held out her helmet to him.   
  
"Nah, you keep it. Might need it again soon," he smiled.   
  
"You mean you won't be picking up any more riders before I see you again?" Faith asked, both teasingly and hopefully.   
  
"Not a chance."   
  
No doubt about it, Faith was getting to like his smile more every time she saw it. Matthieu walked back to his bike and Faith ran to the front door, digging out her key from her front pocket along the way. The motorcycle had started behind her but she didn't turn around until she had crossed the threshold. She turned and waved good-bye. Matthieu nodded and drove off.   
  
Faith shut the door. And smiled. She knew Willow was in the kitchen even before she smelled the coffee.   
  
"Hey," smiled Faith.   
  
"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" asked Willow, glancing at the clock while sipping from her mug.   
  
"Oh yeah. I, uh, kinda lost track of time."   
  
Willow smiled.   
  
"He's cute. For a guy, that is," added Willow.   
  
Faith laughed.   
  
"Wow, I haven't heard you laugh in a long time! He must be something, this Matthieu," said Willow, suddenly staring at the helmet in Faith's hands. Faith noticed and put it down on the table.   
  
"Oh, he is," agreed Faith, smiling and not looking at Willow.   
  
Willow's expression became serious.   
  
"Does...does he know?" she asked timidly.   
  
Faith shrugged as she pulled a chair out and sat down.   
  
"Want some coffee?" asked Willow, mad at herself for asking such a stupid question. "Or, or do you think it will keep you up?"   
  
"If I don't fall asleep right away it won't be because of caffeine," answered Faith, grinning. "But no, thanks anyway."   
  
"How about your usual from the fridge? I'll get it," offered Willow, still trying to change the subject.   
  
"Nah. Willow, he's got to sense something ain't right here, don't cha think?" asked Faith.   
  
Willow sat down in the chair next to Faith and put her mug on the table.   
  
"You've got a crush on him! I'm becoming a little more impressed with this Matthieu. So, is he a good kisser?" teased Willow.   
  
"You were spying on us!" accused Faith.   
  
"Uh, no. You're lipstick is all smudged."   
  
"Oh."   
  
And now Willow laughed.   
  
"Faith...Faith, what can I say? I went out with a werewolf. These things tend to work out. Um, well...okay, if they're meant to, I mean."   
  
Faith didn't look convinced.   
  
"Maybe you could tell him about Tara and me. How, when you find someone special, that, um...their...orientation doesn't matter."   
  
"Willow, I'm dead. That's not a lifestyle choice."   
  
"Um, well...there's that," agreed Willow, pouting.   
  
"Oh, who am I kidding here? This is never going to work. It's just...it's just another part of the total package," said Faith, trying unsuccessfully to sigh.   
  
"Package?" repeated Willow.   
  
"You know. Payback. My punishment for..."   
  
"No."   
  
"Willow, you don't..."   
  
"No!" snapped Willow emphatically.   
  
"But..."   
  
Willow silenced her with a glare. Faith crossed her arms and pouted.   
  
"I'm not letting you set one foot down that road again," said Willow.   
  
Faith looked at her and looked away. But she wasn't pouting anymore. Willow smiled. And kept smiling.   
  
"What?" said Faith, finally unable to ignore her grin.   
  
"Still didn't tell me how he was as a kisser," whined Willow.   
  
Faith tried hard not to smile.   
  
"Come on, give me a number or something! What is he, a seven? An eight?"   
  
Faith hid her smile with her hand.   
  
"Oh, puhlease! You liar! You haven't kissed him enough to rate him higher than that!"   
  
Faith didn't answer but she didn't stop smiling.   
  
"Thanks, Willow," whispered Faith. "Thanks."   
  
Willow leaned over and they hugged.   
  
"I'm happy for you. Just...go slow. I don't want to see you hurt," answered Willow into her ear. And then she felt Faith's body stiffen.   
  
"Morning, Tara!" said Faith, a little louder than she meant to. Willow pulled away and smiled at Tara. She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, blinking her eyes as if she just got up.   
  
"Morning, hon. I'm sorry, did we wake you?" asked Willow as she stood.   
  
"No. And hey, don't I get a good morning kiss?" pouted Tara.   
  
"Oh, no, Tara, we weren't..."   
  
Willow ignored Faith's protest and greeted Tara with a kiss and a hug.   
  
"Is there coffee?" asked Tara.   
  
"Um, sure, but don't you want tea?" asked Willow, scrunching her eyebrows together.   
  
Tara walked past her and opened a cupboard, taking out a mug. With her back to them, Faith mouthed the word 'shit' to Willow but Willow only shrugged and smiled.   
  
"No, I didn't sleep much last night. I need caffeine and lots of it," said Tara.   
  
"What are you two doing up so early anyway?" asked Faith.   
  
Both girls glanced warily at each other. Tara avoided looking at Faith altogether.   
  
"Oh, we, uh...decided it was time to get back on our broomsticks and start fooling around again," nodded Willow. Tara tilted her head at her; Faith raised her eyebrows.   
  
"With doing spells. Together, I mean. We've been neglecting...well, it's been a while," explained Willow.   
  
Faith didn't change her expression.   
  
"Sorry. Didn't know you were having trouble...doing spells. Together," added Faith.   
  
"Oh! No, see, we, we need to do some research first, hit the books, round up some ingredients..."   
  
"For the spells," added Tara.   
  
"Right," agreed Willow enthusiastically.   
  
"Okay...uh, I was going to make pancakes for Dawnie. You guys hungry? I could just double the recipe," offered Faith.   
  
"No, that's...," said both girls at once.   
  
"I'm not hungry yet," said Tara.   
  
"And we've got to get to the Magic Box," said Willow.   
  
"Giles doesn't open until ten. You don't like my cooking!" accused Faith suspiciously.   
  
"Don't be ridiculous!" protested Willow. "We love your cooking."   
  
"Right. What she said," nodded Tara.   
  
Faith looked at Willow and then at Tara. She smiled and shook her head.   
  
"In fact, why don't I make breakfast for her today? You must be tired, Faith. Why not call it a night...er, day, I mean. Hmm, what do you call it?" muttered Willow to herself.   
  
Faith was going to argue but saw that Willow was hinting with her eyes towards Tara. Faith caught on and gathered that Willow needed some alone time with her girl.   
  
"Um, sure. Thanks, I am beat," nodded Faith.   
  
"Oh, and Faith? About Matthieu. Maybe...what I mean is, taking things slow, it just isn't you. So...maybe you should tell him, you know? Being honest is always best," said Willow, looking directly at Tara. Tara visibly blushed. "Before..."   
  
Faith interrupted Willow and she seemed grateful for it.   
  
"Thanks. Maybe you're right. Goodnight," said Faith.   
  
"Goodnight," responded Tara quickly, as if hurrying her along.   
  
Faith looked at her but quickly looked back at Willow.   
  
"Goodnight," said Willow, before the silence grew awkward.   
  
Faith nodded and left. Tara didn't look at Willow. Instead she turned around and poured herself a cup of coffee. Willow's first instinct was to walk over to her and put her arm around her. Instead she let out a shallow sigh.   
  
"What?" demanded Tara without turning around.   
  
"Nothing," snapped Willow. And now Tara did turn around, putting her cup down on the counter.   
  
"No, just say it," said Tara.   
  
"Okay, fine! Why does it have to be like this with you two? It's always just so, so tense. And she's trying, ya know? You could at least meet her half way," added Willow, lowering her voice.   
  
"Pfft!"   
  
Willow put her hands on her hips and glared at Tara.   
  
"It doesn't bother you that she's in her room? I mean, there's even a photo of Buffy by her bed. It's, it's just...wrong somehow," whined Tara.   
  
"I have a photo of Buffy by our bed. Is that wrong? And we're in Joyce's bed!"   
  
"That's different. It's...been longer," answered Tara.   
  
What do you want me to do, throw her out onto the street?" asked Willow rhetorically.   
  
"Never seemed to bother her before," replied Tara but lowering her gaze.   
  
"Tara!"   
  
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Nor did they look at one another.   
  
"Anything else?" asked Willow softly, desperately hoping this old argument was over. Tara hesitated, crossing her arms.   
  
"Is it...do you think the others notice too?" winced Tara.   
  
"What? I don't..."   
  
"Faith said...about doing spells. Together," whispered Tara. "Do the others..."   
  
"Oh, honey. No. She didn't mean..."   
  
"Yes, she did. Willow, you hold me, but you don't touch me. How can you lie with me and not...don't you...don't you want me anymore? Did I do something wr-wrong?" asked Tara, her voice strained.   
  
"Oh, Tara! You know it's not you."   
  
Willow quickly walked over to Tara and hugged her but Tara kept her arms crossed. She pressed her nose to Tara's, fighting back tears.   
  
"I'm sorry. You know I would never hurt you. It's just...I'll try. Soon. I promise," said Willow. She kissed her and Tara nodded, releasing her arms and returning her hug.   
  
"No, I'm sorry. I know you're not...it's me, I shouldn't have even brought it up," sighed Tara.   
  
"Shh," breathed Willow, hugging her tighter.   
  
Just then Dawn walked into the kitchen. From the living room.   
  
"Dawn! I thought you were still sleeping," said Willow, releasing Tara. Tara turned to look at her as well, just as confused.   
  
"I was," replied Dawn.   
  
"But..."   
  
"I fell asleep on the couch last night," explained Dawn.   
  
"You didn't feel good?" asked Tara.   
  
"No, I, I just didn't want to sleep in my room last night," shrugged Dawn, not making eye contact with either of them.   
  
"Oh. Hey, I'm going to make breakfast today. You up for pancakes?" asked Willow.   
  
Dawn ignored her and walked over to the kitchen entrance, looking up at the stairs where Faith had gone. Willow frowned and glanced at Tara. Dawn turned around so fast that she startled Willow.   
  
"I'm in," announced Dawn, her face cold and determined.   
  
"Um...what?" managed Willow.   
  
"Whatever you two are up to. So, what is it? Spell? Seance? Doesn't matter, you need me. I'm in even if you don't," glared Dawn.   
  
"Dawn, I'm not sure...," began Tara.   
  
"I heard you talking last night! I'm sorry, I, I wasn't eavesdropping. Really, I wasn't. I didn't mean to...I was just walking past your door, and..."   
  
Dawn wasn't as confident as she was a moment ago. She looked down, suddenly very upset. Willow and Tara looked at one another, regret in Willow's eyes, fear in Tara's. Willow closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.   
  
"Didn't you say it would be easier if you had Buf...her blood? You did, right?" whispered Dawn. Willow looked up and slowly nodded.   
  
"Okay, then. I think we all know that my blood is the same as hers, don't we? I mean, she kinda proved that when..."   
  
Dawn choked back her tears as Willow held out her arms to her. Dawn didn't run but she moved quickly into her embrace. Tara bit her lower lip and shook her head but Willow didn't notice.   
  
"So...what do we have to do?" sniffed Dawn.   
  
END OF PART TWO


	3. Three

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART THREE   
  
Anya opened her eyes, stretched and smiled. By the light in the room she could tell that it was still early, barely past sunrise. She rolled onto her side and slid her hand across Xander's chest.   
  
"Oh, you're up! Well, maybe awake...but not up. No problem. I know how to remedy that," smiled Anya, snuggling against his shoulder. But Xander didn't respond. He just lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.   
  
"Honey, what's wrong? Did you have another nightmare?" asked Anya.   
  
"Yeah. But that's not why I'm awake," said Xander flatly.   
  
Anya closed her eyes for a moment but then put her own feelings aside and kissed his shoulder.   
  
"Tell me about it. That's what couples do, right? Keep nothing inside where it can fester. No festering. So, what's up?" encouraged Anya, though she pouted as she glanced at the flat sheet covering them.   
  
"No. I'll just try to get back to sleep," sighed Xander.   
  
"Um...don't you have to go to work?"   
  
"Work? It's Saturday," said Xander.   
  
"Honey, it's only Friday," said Anya, pursing her lips together.   
  
"Oh," grimaced Xander, not quite believing her.   
  
"So what's wrong? Tell me. Please?" asked Anya, rubbing his shoulder with her cheek.   
  
"You sure you want to..."   
  
Anya eagerly nodded.   
  
"That's what couples do. They help one another. Tit for tat," said Anya. Xander opened his eyes just a bit wider.   
  
"Not that, silly! Now what's bothering you? Well?" hinted Anya, poking at him with a finger.   
  
"I can't remember her face."   
  
Xander resumed staring at the ceiling.   
  
"You mean...Buffy?"   
  
Xander nodded.   
  
"Xander, don't be silly. It's only been..."   
  
Anya stopped, seeing Xander's jaw clench tightly.   
  
"But..."   
  
"I know. It doesn't make sense," interrupted Xander. "I've known her for years."   
  
Xander swallowed as if painfully. Anya waited patiently, gently hugging him.   
  
"I can still picture her but, but her face...it's blurry, out of focus. It should be sharp, like a photo. I should remember!"   
  
Xander sat up and took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair.   
  
"Why? Why can't I remember? Some friend I am," said Xander tensely, shaking his head in disgust.   
  
"Xander," winced Anya, sitting up and reaching for him. But Xander pulled away and stood up, not looking at her.   
  
"I'm going to take a shower," he said, walking away before Anya could answer.   
  
Anya fell back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling.   
  
*****   
  
Tara grabbed Willow's wrist, stopping her before she reached the door.   
  
"Willow, why don't we just wait half an hour until Giles opens up? I feel funny, like we're stealing or, or worse," pouted Tara.   
  
"Tara, we agreed! It's only a simple spell to open the door and that way we don't have to explain. We'll return the book before he even knows it's gone. And it's not stealing 'cause we're not keeping anything. It's...borrowing," smiled Willow. But Tara was looking past Willow, into the shop.   
  
"Willow, the lights are on. Anya's here already."   
  
"Oh. Um, okay, on to plan B. You just have to distract Giles for a few minutes. Do you know what you're going to say?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm ready," nodded Tara.   
  
"Really? Usually you're all nervous girl when it comes to..."   
  
"I'm ready," repeated Tara.   
  
"Oh. Okay," shrugged Willow. She let her fingers slide through Tara's hand as she turned and pushed the door open. Anya looked up from behind the cash register, surprised to see them.   
  
"Morning, Anya," said Willow, a little louder than she meant to. Tara nodded and smiled.   
  
"Hey guys! Want to count the startup money with me?" asked Anya happily.   
  
"Um, no. We needed to look up...stuff. For spells," said Willow.   
  
"Magic," added Tara.   
  
"Tara and I are going to try some new spells," explained Willow.   
  
"Together," smiled Tara.   
  
"Again," nodded Willow in agreement.   
  
"Good for you! The appropriate amount of time for mourning has passed. Xander and I waited a whole week," said Anya, again counting her money.   
  
"Um, no Anya, I meant...we meant magic. Witchy type hocus pocus stuff," tried Willow. Tara looked even less convinced than Anya.   
  
"Sure," winked Anya, closing the register drawer.   
  
"But..."   
  
"Willow, it's okay. We're all adults here. Trying something new is...good. But maybe you should just get back to the basics at first. It's like falling off a bike," laughed Anya, waving a hand at her.   
  
"No, Anya..."   
  
"Honey, it's okay, let's just...," began Tara, touching Willow's arm.   
  
"Or is it falling off a horse?" asked Anya out loud but to herself.   
  
Willow shook her head.   
  
"Hey! It's riding a bike and I don't even like horses," snapped Willow.   
  
"So it is falling off a horse then," said Anya.   
  
"What? No! Anya..."   
  
"Tara, she seems awfully tense. You two really need to..."   
  
"Anya!" yelled Willow, rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath and exhaled, puffing out her cheeks.   
  
"Speaking of bikes, did you know Faith has a new boyfriend? He has a motorcycle," said Tara.   
  
"Ah, you attempt to distract me and change the subject by discussing gossip. Clever. And effective! So, what's his name?" asked Anya excitedly.   
  
"Matthieu," said Tara.   
  
"Um, Anya?" said Willow.   
  
"Is he cute?" asked Anya.   
  
"Well, we haven't met him yet, but I doubt he's my type," grinned Tara, glancing at Willow.   
  
"Um, Anya?" repeated Willow a little louder.   
  
"Of course he's not your type. After all, he has a penis. And you being..."   
  
"Anya!" yelled Willow.   
  
Anya opened her eyes wide and looked at Willow.   
  
"Where is Giles?"   
  
Anya's expression didn't change but now she nervously smiled.   
  
"He's in back," said Anya, still forcing her mouth to show her teeth.   
  
"Thank you," smiled Willow.   
  
Willow turned to climb the ladder to the loft where the more advanced magic books were kept. Anya caught Tara's eye as she walked past.   
  
"She needs it bad," whispered Anya, scrunching up her nose. She grinned at Willow when the red head glanced in her direction. With her back to Willow, Tara mouthed the words 'oh yeah' to Anya.   
  
"I'll come with," announced Anya, quickly following Tara. "Um, Giles is a little under the weather this morning."   
  
"He's coming down with something?"   
  
"Hangover," corrected Anya, shaking her head.   
  
"Again?" sighed Tara under her breath. Anya sadly shrugged.   
  
"So, how's Xander doing?" asked Tara.   
  
"Oh, he has his good days and his bad. Mostly bad. But at least I got him to stop listening to that depressing country music."   
  
"That's...good," nodded Tara.   
  
"Yeah. He's into the blues now," said Anya. Tara shot her a very concerned look.   
  
"Trust me, the blues are way less depressing than country music," sighed Anya.   
  
The windows had been painted over for Faith some time back. And that was also convenient for Spike, who was sitting cross legged on the floor next to Giles. The Watcher was somewhat asleep, spread out on an padded exercise mat. He opened his eyes as they entered the room, one hand holding a wet towel on his forehead.   
  
"Spike?" said Tara out loud.   
  
Spike stood up, trying to appear more confident than he was.   
  
"Morning, Tara. Um, say, is your better half here?" asked Spike, one corner of his mouth upturned.   
  
"She's out front," nodded Tara.   
  
"Figured as much. Look, I'm not wanting to upset her or, or anything. I'm only here because..."   
  
"Spike helped me home last night," announced Giles, wincing as he sat up. He slid his glasses on. "I'm afraid I had a little too much to drink."   
  
No one spoke. Nor did they look at Giles.   
  
"I'm sorry," said Giles, tossing the towel onto the floor.   
  
"Right, so it's not like I can leave, it being daylight and all. Under the circumstances I'd say I was a guest. And entitled to certain privileges due...guests. Still, I think I'll remain here. For now," nodded Spike.   
  
"Spike, Willow isn't mad at you. How many times do we have to tell you that?" asked Tara.   
  
"Never implied that she was," countered Spike, feigning insult.   
  
"Spike, I need to talk to Giles for a moment. Privately," added Tara, growing impatient with him. "Why don't you go with Anya and she'll get you something to drink?"   
  
"Oh, sure, have me go into Faith's private stash. Say, Spike, how about some wine?" asked Anya.   
  
Spike gave her a look that was more perplexed than amused.   
  
"It's red," added Anya.   
  
"A good vintage?" inquired Spike.   
  
"Ninety seven. Napa Valley stuff," smiled Anya proudly.   
  
"Hmm, good year but a tad young," said Spike rubbing his chin. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "And it is a bit early in the day to start."   
  
"Not really," said Giles, smiling his encouragement. Tara rolled her eyes.   
  
"Spike, there's a small refrigerator I used to have in my dorm over in the corner there. Go help yourself. And the good stuff is hidden near the back, if you know what I mean."   
  
"Human blood?" asked Spike, eyes open.   
  
Tara nodded.   
  
"Faith doesn't think we know," said Tara. "So I doubt that she'll come complaining about a missing bag. And notice I implied one bag!"   
  
"Don't have to ask twice, love," grinned Spike, already walking away. Anya followed him and Tara sat down next to Giles, folding her legs under herself.   
  
"Rough morning?" asked Tara.   
  
"Rougher night," replied Giles, again pressing the damp cloth to his forehead. He noticed her staring at his fingers; they were scraped raw and there were still traces of dirt under his fingernails. Giles wrapped the cloth around his knuckles and lowered his hand.   
  
"Tara, I'm embarrassed to say that, although I inquired about you through Willow, I never asked you how you were doing. So...how are you?"   
  
"Doing okay, I guess," replied Tara evasively.   
  
"No more nightmares?"   
  
"Some. I, I really don't remember too much. Just...every so often, at night, I'll wake up. And I'll almost remember. It's dark there, and..and there's things around me. Even though I can't see them, I know they are there."   
  
Tara shivered but looked at Giles. He smiled for her. It almost helped.   
  
"You wanted to ask me something?" encouraged Giles.   
  
"Oh. Yes. Um, have you heard from Angel yet?"   
  
"No. No one has. He's gone and he'll come back when able to deal with, well, with what he needs to...deal with," frowned Giles.   
  
"And if he can't? Deal with it, I mean," said Tara. Giles met Tara's eyes, wondering if she was asking about Angel or Willow.   
  
"Time passes differently for vampires, Tara. It has a different meaning. He'll be back."   
  
"It just means he'll suffer longer than the rest of us," sighed Tara.   
  
"Perhaps. But you didn't come here to ask about Angel, did you?" smiled Giles.   
  
"No. Giles, I wanted to talk to you about Willow. See, sometimes...okay, most every time that I wake up, I'll find her sitting up in bed, just staring off at nothing."   
  
"She's having trouble sleeping?" asked Giles, leaning forward.   
  
"No. I don't think she's even aware that she's doing it. But Giles, something's wrong. Her eyes..."   
  
Tara took a deep breath but couldn't look up at Giles.   
  
Her eyes?" encouraged Giles. Tara nodded, still not looking up.   
  
"They're black. And I mean completely black...like when she was using those dark magicks against Glory. I try to wake her but I can't. Sometimes she'll lay down and close her eyes. And sometimes...she'll just sit there, as if I wasn't there holding her, and stare at nothing. Smiling," winced Tara, looking up at Giles.   
  
For a moment Ethan Rayne's grinning face flashed before Giles, a painful reminder of his own foray into the darkness of black magicks.   
  
"Tara, I understand your concern. It could be just a side effect from using the black arts. As long as she's not calling on them anymore..."   
  
"It doesn't matter," interrupted Tara, her voice small.   
  
"What? I don't understand."   
  
"There are noises...sometimes. Shadows that shouldn't be there. I know there's things in the room with us. I turn on the light and of course there's nothing there. But I can feel this presence, this, this...darkness," said Tara, whispering the last word.   
  
Giles stared at her, mouth slightly open.   
  
"Giles, what do we do? I'm so worried about her. And she doesn't even know! I try to talk to her about it but she doesn't believe me. She doesn't remember!"   
  
Giles reached out and held her hand in his.   
  
"It will be alright, Tara. I don't think she's in danger yet. But it's very important that Willow not involve herself in any spells for a while, no matter how simple or harmless they seem."   
  
Tara swallowed and smiled.   
  
"S-so you think she'll be okay?" needing to be reassured again.   
  
Giles shook his head, clearing it before the demon possessed face of Jenny Calendar could take hold. Would Willow be okay...   
  
"As you know, in my youth I experimented with...what I'm trying to say is Willow isn't in any danger. Not yet, anyway. But she mustn't do any spells."   
  
"Thank you, Giles. Could you talk to her? I think she'll listen to you."   
  
"Of course. Let me get cleaned up a bit first. Why don't you research a cleansing ritual?"   
  
"Way ahead of you there. She even thought of it first, maybe just to appease me. We did the ritual but...it, uh, hasn't seemed to have helped," frowned Tara.   
  
"Oh," muttered Giles, unable to hide his concern.   
  
Across the room Spike pretended to be interested in what Anya was saying. He was much more interested, however, in the conversation Giles was having with Tara. And with his enhanced hearing he had heard every word.   
  
*****   
  
"Willow, wait up. Hey!" called Tara, walking faster to keep along side of her. Willow looked up from the open book she carried, but only for a moment, not even slowing down.   
  
"Tara, we've got a few errands to run. Gonna need to pick up some things if we want to try this tonight," said Willow, still turning pages in the book.   
  
"Honey, watch where you're going, okay? And stuff? What stuff?" asked Tara.   
  
"Um...you'll see. Does Dawn still have that Scrabble game in the hall closet?"   
  
"Yeah, I think so. Willow, I think Giles wanted to talk to you. We didn't...well, you didn't even say goodbye!" complained Tara.   
  
"Uh...what? Oh, Giles. We'll see him tomorrow. Couldn't exactly hang around there with this book in my hand, you know? Did my girl have a big breakfast today?" smiled Willow, finally closing the book. They stopped at a corner, waiting for the light to change so they could cross the street.   
  
"You know I did. Pancakes, remember? Why..."   
  
"Need some sand from the hardware store. Could use some help of the lifting kind," grinned Willow.   
  
"Sand? We're going to play Scrabble in the sand?" frowned Tara.   
  
"Of course not! Don't be silly. Buffy is. Or, at least I hope she will. Oh wait! She never really liked that game, did she? Oh!" whined Willow.   
  
The light changed and Willow crossed the street, reading from the book again. Tara stood there, mouth open, one hand on her hip.   
  
"Huh? Hey, wait up!"   
  
*****   
  
Giles leaned against the counter next to the cash register, a cup of untouched coffee in his unsteady hand. He forced a smile at Anya and she politely smiled back, quickly leaving to assist a customer whether they wanted the help or not. Giles set the cup down and ran both hands through his hair. Then the phone rang and he jumped.   
  
"Hello, this is the Magic Box, Rupert Giles speaking. How may I help you?"   
  
"Good morning, Rupert. And how are you this morning?"   
  
"Quentin!" said Giles, lowering his voice and glancing at Anya apprehensively. "I thought I told you not to call me here."   
  
"Time is a factor now, Rupert. Surely you know that."   
  
"I can't do it, Quentin. I won't!" said Giles, fighting to keep his voice down.   
  
"Forgive me, but whatever are you talking about? We haven't, well, you haven't, even begun yet. It's only a simple spell, Rupert. Surely with your colorful past this is well within your capabilities," said Travers matter-of-factly.   
  
"Spell? What spell?" demanded Giles.   
  
"Rupert...what did you do last night? You, you didn't take my suggestion seriously, did you?"   
  
Giles moved the phone away from his ear, staring at it.   
  
"My God, man, you didn't..."   
  
"Suggestion? It was practically an order!" said Giles loudly, no longer caring who overheard.   
  
"Rupert, what did you do?" asked Travers evenly.   
  
"Nothing! Now what spell is this that you keep referring to?" snapped Giles.   
  
Anya watched Giles out of the corner of her eye, pretending to arrange some books on a shelf. Giles slammed the phone down and looked in her direction. Anya pulled another book out and wiped its jacket free of dust with her sleeve. When she again dared to look at Giles he had ascended the ladder to the loft.   
  
Giles knelt down. He knew exactly which book he needed. He reached for it but his hand never touched it. There was an empty space between two other books where what he sought should be. Thinking back to his conversation with Tara, it only took him a moment to understand. Without turning around, Giles whispered one word.   
  
"Willow."   
  
*****   
  
Faith regretted promising Giles that they would train tonight, though she knew it would benefit him even more than her. It was just that she had other things on her mind now. As soon as the sun set she was out the door. Faith regretted not being able to talk to Dawn before leaving but the house was empty and no one had left a note to say where they were.   
  
When she got to the Magic Box the door was locked and the interior was dark. She knocked once but no one came to the door. Walking around to the back door she found that locked as well. And now Faith was worried. Sure, Giles wasn't himself lately. But it wasn't like him to completely forget like this. And he hadn't called, either.   
  
Faith decided to swing by his place before heading out on patrol.   
  
*****   
  
Giles pressed his foot down into the sod, finally satisfied with his efforts. The grass would fill in. Maybe no one would even notice. Given time, everything would be as it was.   
  
Given time.   
  
Nothing would ever be as it was.   
  
Giles stared at the cold, unforgiving slab, his eyes not focusing on the words etched upon the stone. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, withdrew his hand and looked at his open palm. A silver cross on a silver chain.   
  
She had danced at her prom. She had held her sister's hand on her first day of school when Joyce had the flu and was too ill to take Dawn herself. She had swam in the ocean, had eaten ice cream, had burned her first pumpkin pie. She had laughed. She had worn a cheerleader's outfit, only wanting to be an ordinary girl.   
  
She had smiled. Oh how she had smiled.   
  
Giles slipped the cross back into his pocket and limped away.   
  
*****   
  
Faith knocked on the door again and peered through the window into the dark room.   
  
"Great! Just...great!" yelled Faith, her concern washed way by her anger. She stormed off, her right hand clenched into a fist.   
  
*****   
  
She moved silently among the trees, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, only pausing to sniff at the air. She had no destination in mind, no place that she had to be. Time was meaningless except to mark the sunset when she could hunt again. Her mouth hung open as if longing for something her other senses might miss. To supress her growing impatience, this urge to run, she concentrated even deeper, listening for any sound that was unnatural to the night. She was a Slayer. And she needed this.   
  
This was not Buffy's style. No. That Slayer would boldly announce her presence now, tempting them, smiling, sure of her skills, confident in her abilities to overcome them even in numbers. But she had been trained differently. She preferred stealth, caution. Ethereal, like a breeze, she drifted into another shadow.   
  
The scent of freshly mown grass reached her even before the trees thinned out. Not twenty steps away stood a lone tree by the edge of a pond. Its branches hung low as if its dark leaves were a heavy burden. At the crown of the tree a few naked, twisted branches reached wraithlike, silhouetted by the night sky. She waited for a cloud to pass in front of the moon before running to the thick trunk of the tree.   
  
Standing motionless, she waited. By the time the moon had broken free of its shroud the peepers and insects, silenced by her movement, once again began their incessant droning. She turned her back to the water, watching and listening, her head still but her eyes searching. Something wasn't right. Something was out of place. And yet...   
  
Instantly the night was silent. The quiet seemed louder than the insects and frogs had been. And still nothing moved.   
  
Her eyes grew wide with sudden understanding. Stake already in hand, she spun, crouching low. The stake was kicked from her grasp even as a wet hand clutched her throat viselike, driving her back against the hard trunk of the tree. The vampire's yellow eyes glared at her, water dripping down its arm.   
  
"What's the matter, Pat? Forget everything I taught you?" smiled Faith coldly.   
  
Pat drove her foot down into Faith's instep, loosening the vampire's grip. A headbutt bought another second or two and Pat pushed her heels down, springing into a backroll. She bounced up into a defensive posture, another stake already in her hand. Only a hint of an approving smile passed Faith's lips but Pat never saw it in the dark between them.   
  
"We don't breathe, remember? I could've been under the dirt at your feet instead of in the water! You knew I was near! Stop thinking and reacting...just feel and anticipate," said Faith, her voice tinged with disappointment.   
  
Pat didn't move and didn't take her eyes from Faith.   
  
"You ready to use that?" grinned Faith, her eyes glancing at the stake.   
  
"Damn right," warned Pat. "Wanna try me? Who knows...I might get lucky."   
  
"Good. Any other answer and I would've kicked your ass. Again."   
  
Faith eased into a standing position and took a step back, her face morphing back into human form. Pat stood but kept the stake in her hand.   
  
"This is my turf now. What the hell do you want?" demanded Faith, her eyes once again taking in the wood in Pat's hand.   
  
"I needed to talk to you," said Pat, the hope of acceptance thick in her words.   
  
"We have this thing now...hmm, what is it? Oh yeah, the telephone!" quipped Faith.   
  
Pat just stood there, staring.   
  
"Hey, you're wasting my time. I'm outta here," announced Faith.   
  
"Your Watcher is in danger," said Pat simply, as if bored.   
  
Faith had barely turned to leave. Her head snapped around, eyes cold and still like the water behind her.   
  
"Thought that might get your attention," said Pat, knowing she shouldn't smile. It would only taunt Faith. She smiled anyway.   
  
"You've been in Sunnydale at least twenty four hours. You're only telling me this now? Even if you couldn't find me you could've told Willow!"   
  
"Right. As if. You think any of them wouldn't turn their back to me if they saw me approaching? You know I obviously can't use the phone. He would hear. They always do. My only chance was to find you, alone, on patrol," said Pat, only now lowering her hand with the stake to her side.   
  
The night was thick with the sounds of humming insects as each Slayer studied the other.   
  
"Travers is after Giles. Why?" asked Faith, fighting back the rage she felt suddenly building.   
  
"Giles is being closely watched. The Council isn't sure he can handle the stress of the job anymore, not after...not after all that's happened. How he reacts to...let's just say his very sanity is being questioned. It's not a test, Faith...it's a trap."   
  
Pat took a deep breath, bracing herself for Faith's reaction.   
  
"What?" growled Faith.   
  
"That's all I know, I swear. They want him to mess up. To have any excuse to remove him," sighed Pat.   
  
"But why?" demanded Faith.   
  
Pat raised her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly to one side.   
  
"It's me. It's me they're after! Those bastards!" yelled Faith.   
  
"They don't trust you," stated Pat simply.   
  
For a moment the insects were quiet. Pat slipped the stake into her back pocket.   
  
"What are they going to do?" asked Faith softly.   
  
"I don't know! I've told you all that I know, more than I should have. Faith, he is my Watcher," said Pat, shaking her head. "Would you betray yours?"   
  
Faith spat on the ground. Pat lowered her eyes.   
  
"Never take your eyes off of a vampire," warned Faith. Pat looked up and nodded once.   
  
"It wasn't my choice, Faith. The Council ordered me to leave. He ordered me," frowned Pat.   
  
"We needed you. The Council be damned, they didn't help us at all! She might not have died if..."   
  
Faith stopped, seeing Pat wince in pain.   
  
"I should go. He might get suspicious," said Pat.   
  
Faith stared at her. Pat swallowed and rubbed something from her eye.   
  
"Where are you staying?" asked Faith.   
  
Pat smiled.   
  
"You'll never believe it. Remember that dump you stayed in at the edge of town?"   
  
"Cheap bastards," said Faith, shaking her head.   
  
They stood looking at one another. Faith counted eight of Pat's heartbeats. Neither one wanted to be the first to break eye contact.   
  
"I'm sorry," whispered Pat. She turned and began walking away.   
  
"Nice moves, kid. It's good to know I won't have to worry about you being able to take care of yourself. Well, not worry as much, anyway."   
  
Pat gasped, so grateful for even the smallest crumb of praise from the other Slayer. She turned around...but Faith was gone.   
  
*****   
  
"Willow, why here? I mean, shouldn't we be near her grave? Or close to where she died?" asked Dawn innocently.   
  
Dawn looked around her room as Willow lit a single black candle with a match, a sickly sweet fragrance immediately rising forth. The letters of the Scrabble game were spread out on the floor behind her. Tara had poured out a pile of sand onto a newspaper and spread it out evenly with her hand.   
  
"And what's with all this, this stuff?" asked Dawn, shrugging her shoulders.   
  
"We don't need to be near her grave, Dawnie. That's for more powerful spells. We're just going with a simple seance. For now," added Willow, ignoring Tara's icy glare.   
  
"Oh."   
  
"You can never know how the...how they will contact you," explained Willow, avoiding using the word 'dead' in front of Dawn. "Buffy could speak through one of us..."   
  
"Not as common as television would have you believe," interjected Tara. Willow nodded.   
  
"Or she could spell out a word with those letters, maybe write in the sand...her voice could come over the radio. We have to give her as many options as possible," said Willow. "Tara, can you prepare the mirror?"   
  
Tara held up a large, hand held vanity mirror and passed the back of her hand over it, whispering the word 'mist'. She smiled, turning the now clouded surface towards them. Willow smiled her approval.   
  
"Cool," grinned Dawn.   
  
"It's not hard to do. Not much more than a Glamour," winked Tara.   
  
"So she could write on that, like when you get out of the shower. Only she'd have to write really small," frowned Dawn.   
  
"Um...yeah," nodded Tara, placing the mirror on the floor near the sand.   
  
"Okay, we need to form a circle," said Willow. Suddenly she looked worried, as if she had heard something and was listening for it.   
  
"What's wrong?" asked Tara.   
  
"Faith. I think...she's coming to the front door," winced Willow. "Dawn, go see what she wants. But don't let her in here. Tell her, tell her..."   
  
"I'll tell her you're in bed," said Dawn, already heading for the door.   
  
"But it's only nine thirty," said Tara.   
  
"And you two haven't 'gone to bed'," said Dawn, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers, "this early before?"   
  
"Oh," smiled Tara, her face red. Dawn closed the door.   
  
"Well, not in a long time," sighed Tara. Willow looked up and pouted.   
  
"I know," said Willow bitterly, reaching for a book behind her to avoid Tara's sad eyes.   
  
Tara was drawn once again to the scar on Willow's neck, a reminder of the connection she had with the Slayer. No, not with the Slayer. With the vampire that was the Slayer. Tara folded her hands together and stared at them. The room was very quiet.   
  
Dawn opened the door just as Faith was reaching for it.   
  
"Hey, Dawnie! Where have you been?" smiled Faith.   
  
Dawn looked Faith up and down, taking in her wet clothes.   
  
"Uh, where have you been?" asked Dawn, stepping back to let Faith in.   
  
"Don't ask. I'm going to change and head back out again. Whatcha doin'?"   
  
"Oh, nothing. Just hanging," replied Dawn, following Faith up the stairs. Faith stopped in front of Dawn's closed door and looked back at Dawn.   
  
"Willow's here. Good, I needed to ask her about Giles," said Faith, reaching to knock on the door. Dawn grabbed her wrist before she could.   
  
"Um, Faith, she's with Tara. Maybe we should...talk later," suggested Dawn.   
  
"Why, what are they..."   
  
Dawn raised her eyebrows.   
  
"You don't want to know," said Dawn.   
  
"Oh! Well, good for them. 'Bout time, too," grinned Faith.   
  
"And Giles? Well, I think he wanted to be alone. Went for a walk or something. Yeah, that's it. So, no need to worry, right?" asked Dawn nervously. Faith didn't notice, hearing what she wanted to hear.   
  
"Oh. Alright. I'll go get changed," said Faith.   
  
"I'll help you with your hair," said Dawn as Faith went into her room. She waited a moment and then quietly opened the door and stuck her head in.   
  
"She'll be gone in a few minutes. She was asking about Giles, but I lied and told her he went for a walk," whispered Dawn. "She's getting changed."   
  
Willow nodded and Dawn shut the door.   
  
Faith stood before the closet, looking at her clothes. A big grin slowly spread across her face.   
  
END OF PART THREE


	4. Four

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART FOUR   
  
"Mr. Giles, so good to see you again! It's been...well, it's been too long, it has," said the guard, vigorously shaking Giles' hand.   
  
"Yes, Arthur, it has been a while. How's your wife?" inquired Giles more out of politeness than curiosity.   
  
"Fine. Thanks for asking. You need to come over sometime soon and have supper with us," smiled Arthur.   
  
"If I could only find the time. I've been so busy lately...but if a lull develops, I'll call. I promise," nodded Giles.   
  
"Ellie would love to have you. So, what brings you out to the museum so late tonight?" inquired Arthur, pulling the door shut behind Giles.   
  
"I'm working on a project with a colleague and, well, I'm embarrassed to admit that I promised him information that I don't possess. Would it be an imposition...what I mean is, could I have a quick look around? I'm sure what I'm looking for is here. And I'll only be a few minutes."   
  
"Oh, dear. It is after hours, Mr. Giles," winced Arthur, trying to ignore the disappointment on Giles' face.   
  
"I'd really appreciate it, Arthur. Just five minutes, that's all I need."   
  
"I don't know...rules are rules," sighed the night watchman. "Still, I am the only one here and who would know?"   
  
"Thank you, Arthur," grinned Giles.   
  
"Wouldn't do it for anyone else, mind you. Where are you headed? I'll put some lights on," said Arthur.   
  
"Oh, that won't be necessary. Wouldn't want to attract attention. Just going down the hall to the Greek Exhibit. I know the way and I have a flashlight," said Giles, holding up his flashlight and lighting it.   
  
"Suit yourself. And take your time. I'm not going anywhere and either is any of this stuff!" laughed Arthur. He pulled on the front door again, making sure it was locked shut and then walked back to his office.   
  
"That's what you think," whispered Giles, glancing back over his shoulder at Arthur. The watchman poured a cup of coffee from his thermos and didn't even look at Giles as he walked away.   
  
Giles illuminated the floor at his feet and ignored the displays behind glass walls to either side of him. His footsteps echoed eerily in the cavernous building. At the end of the hall he came to a sign. An arrow pointed left to the Greek Exhibit. Giles didn't hesitate. He took a right...towards the Egyptian Exhibit.   
  
Nothing much changed in a museum, not unlike the tombs and caves where these artifacts were first found. A few more steps, a tip of the flashlight upwards and Giles found what he sought. A drawing of the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. The beam of light glistened off a bronze bowl and knife just to the right of the display.   
  
Giles remained motionless, not even breathing. The room was deeper than silent. Reaching into his pocket, his hand gripped the glass cutter firmly and withdrew it, pressing it up against the cold surface of the glass in front of him. His palm was damp with sweat but his resolve was firm. This felt right somehow. No, more than right. More than justified. This was familiar, like finding a favorite book once thought lost. Yet all you had to do was look for it.   
  
"We lie to ourselves, over and over, desperately needing to believe we have changed, hungering for it, until we accept the deception as truth. But deep down, where it matters, we remain the same. And the means can be justified by the end," laughed Giles, not caring any longer if Arthur heard him.   
  
The adrenaline steadied his hand, gave him confidence. This was familiar.   
  
And Ripper smiled.   
  
*****   
  
Faith saw Matthieu's Harley parked alongside the backdoor of the Fish Tank and walked down the alley, confidently swinging her hips though there was no one to watch her. She glanced up at the sky, frowning at the billowing clouds. She had just dried off and didn't want it to rain. She plunked down her helmet on the seat of his bike and walked into the smoky bar.   
  
Sitting in his chair by the front door, Matthieu did a double take, staring at Faith. As did several other patrons. Brown sandals, tan capris and a white halter top, tied only at the neck and waist; a new look for Faith, but it had the effect she had desired. She slid onto a barstool and smiled at Ed. It took him a moment to close his mouth, but he smiled back at her and placed a beer in front of her.   
  
Ed looked like he was going to say something. Instead her grinned, shook his head and walked away to the other end of the bar. Where George was sitting. He was avoiding looking in Faith's direction but he knew she was there. Faith was surprised to see him as she could've sworn she had separated his shoulder last night. Still, she expected no more trouble from George.   
  
Faith raised the glass of beer to her lips and winked at Matthieu. It was Matthieu's turn to grin.   
  
*****   
  
Willow clicked the light off and it their eyes a moment to adjust to only candlelight. Over her objections Tara had lit two more candles next to the mirror, between the sand and the letters spread out on the floor. Willow sat down cross-legged and extended her hands to both Dawn and Tara, smiling at Dawn to ease her nervousness.   
  
"Okay, let's try this again. We form a circle with our hands. Now, no matter what happens, don't break the connection. All you need to do is focus on Buffy."   
  
Willow looked from Tara to Dawn, smiling her encouragement. They both stared at her intently, though Tara stole a glance at Dawn.   
  
"Just remember her. Her face, her voice...that's all you have to do," nodded Willow.   
  
"Well, no, not all," said Dawn.   
  
"Oh?" said Willow, wrinkling her forehead.   
  
"Yeah. You know...my blood?"   
  
"Oh! Right."   
  
Willow reached down and picked up a pin off the floor.   
  
"Here, let me have your hand," said Willow.   
  
Dawn winced even before Willow stuck the pin into her finger. She squeezed her finger tightly and a red drop of blood rose from her skin.   
  
"Sorry," grimaced Willow.   
  
"Wasn't so bad," smiled Dawn.   
  
"Rub your finger on this blouse. Um, it is Buffy's, right?" asked Willow, handing a light blue top to Dawn. Dawn nodded.   
  
"My mom gave this to her at Christmas. I know she wore it at least a few times," sighed Dawn.   
  
Willow took a deep breath and avoided Dawn's eyes.   
  
"Bandaid?" offered Willow, holding one up.   
  
Dawn smiled and took it. When Dawn was ready they all joined hands. Willow closed her eyes and, realizing that she held their trust as well, squeezed just a little more firmly.   
  
"Buffy Summers, I call out your name. You know who I am. Wherever you are, hear my voice. Focus upon my voice. Remember who you are. Remember...remember our friendship and what I meant to you."   
  
Tara sadly pouted and nodded, looking at Dawn.   
  
"I need to speak with you. Please, Buffy, hear my plea. Show us a sign that you have heard me."   
  
Willow opened one eye and glanced around the room.   
  
Silence. It was so quiet that Willow could swear she could hear the candle flickering. She closed her eyes again.   
  
"Buffy, your sister Dawn is here with me. And Tara. We want...we need to talk to you. Please, Buffy, focus on my voice. Remember. Find me. Buffy, find me..."   
  
*****   
  
Almost closing time. Between the dancing and smiling and whispers the regulars had sensed the desire building between Matthieu and Faith and had uncharacteristically left early, as if they were intruding on a party uninvited. A few had offered to buy Faith a round and she had accepted more than she had declined. Even George had left without so much as a glance in her direction. It had begun to rain, very softly, just a heavy mist. Faith no longer cared. She slid off her stool, surprised at how unsteady she was on her feet.   
  
Matthieu closed and locked the front door and flicked the light off as he turned around. Faith was already standing there and he nearly bumped into her. Only the light above the bar was on now, casting shadows towards the couple. Ed caught Matthieu's eye and waved goodbye with a smile, tossing the bar rag aside. He would clean up tomorrow.   
  
"So, feel like having another dance? Then again, I wouldn't want to tire you out. Not like that, anyway," laughed Faith, putting her hands on his shoulders.   
  
"I'm not tired. Not yet, anyway," countered Matthieu, grinning. His smile faded as his eyes took in the body before him. He ran his fingers over the scar on Faith's bare belly.   
  
"That looks like nasty in a major way. Interesting story?" asked Matthieu.   
  
"Happened a lifetime ago. Did put me in a coma for a spell," said Faith, running a hand through his hair.   
  
"Really? Wow."   
  
"Hey, we gonna talk about old times or are you going to dance with me?" asked Faith with mock seriousness.   
  
Matthieu only smiled. He seemed to hesitate but then leaned in for a kiss. Faith eagerly met his lips, pulling him to her. Suddenly Matthieu pulled away. Faith looked at him, confused, then realized that he was staring at something behind them. She looked back and saw George silhouetted by the open back door. It was raining harder now.   
  
"Shit. Stay here, I'll get rid of him," sighed Matthieu, not waiting for an answer.   
  
Faith watched them, annoyed at the interruption. George was asking Matthieu if he had left his cigarettes here and Faith quickly lost interest. A rude gesture or two later and George left the bar. Matthieu followed him out into the alley to make sure he left.   
  
Faith turned and stared out the front window. Except for the steady rhythm of the rain, all was quiet. Too quiet, in fact. Faith looked back over her shoulder, wondering what was taking him so long. She walked towards the back door, eyes narrowed. Hearing a grunt and a curse, Faith began to run.   
  
Not ten feet into the alley Matthieu and George were wrestling, struggling for position with the taller George pushed up against the brick wall, his arm pinned above his head by Matthieu's right hand. George landed a punch as Matthieu grabbed his neck, slamming George's head against the dark brick. And then Faith saw the knife in George's hand above him. It was a long blade.   
  
"Hey!" yelled Faith, ignored by both men.   
  
George landed another punch and Matthieu's grip faltered. He brought his arm down and Matthieu struggled to keep the weapon between them, his hand slipping on George's wet wrist. Faith ran at them, her feet splashing loudly, echoing in the alley. She reached Matthieu just as he pulled George's arm forward, past his side.   
  
Faith was knocked backwards, falling to the ground on her side. She groaned in pain and looked down. The knife was imbedded into her side as deep as the hilt. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and pulled it free with both hands. Gasping, she held it out and slowly opened her eyes, watching as the rain washed away the blood from the metal, diluted red running down her arm.   
  
Only now did she notice both men staring at her. George stumbled and almost fell, then ran away down the alley. Matthieu ignored him, not taking his eyes from Faith, his mouth open. Faith dropped the knife and it clanged once as it hit the pavement. As if awakened, Matthieu knelt down beside Faith. She covered the wound with her hand, avoiding his eyes.   
  
"No!" whispered Matthieu.   
  
*****   
  
Dawn gave Tara's hand a gentle squeeze and their eyes met. With only a frown she was able to convey her concern. Tara immediately nodded in agreement.   
  
Willow's face was slick with perspiration. Her blouse clung damply to her skin.   
  
"Buffy...please...why won't you answer me?" cried Willow, her voice breaking, her eyes closed fiercely, as if she was afraid to look around the room and admit defeat.   
  
"Willow, honey, why don't you take a rest?" asked Tara.   
  
"Yeah. Maybe we should stop for a while," agreed Dawn.   
  
Willow lowered her head but didn't open her eyes.   
  
"But just for tonight," added Dawn. "We can try again tomorrow. Okay?"   
  
"At least have some water," said Tara.   
  
Willow still didn't look up. Her lips were tightly clenched, her nostrils flaring as she drew in shallow breaths of air. Tears rimmed the corners of her eyes.   
  
"Willow?" whispered Tara.   
  
Willow opened her eyes, glaring at the sand, the mirror, the letters scattered in vain across the floor. The candle flickered, a trail of dark smoke mocking her.   
  
"Honey, it's time to stop," said Tara, lowering her head to try to make eye contact.   
  
"No!" yelled Willow.   
  
Both girls jumped. Willow broke free of their hands and grabbed the pin from the floor.   
  
"Dawn, give me your hand," commanded Willow.   
  
"Wh-what?" muttered Dawn fearfully.   
  
Willow grabbed her wrist and tore the bandaid off of her finger with her free hand.   
  
"Willow, what are you...ow!" yelled Dawn as Willow jabbed the pin into her finger. She squeezed hard, pinching her skin and forcing the blood out.   
  
"Willow, you're hurting me!" cried Dawn, wincing.   
  
Leaning forward, Willow rubbed Dawn's finger above and below her lips, smearing blood. Tara's eyes opened wide in fear.   
  
"Willow, no!" pleaded Tara.   
  
Willow pried her fingers into Dawn's, gripping her hand firmly. She thrust her other hand out at Tara.   
  
"Give me your hand," demanded Willow.   
  
"Willow, no...don't do this!" begged Tara.   
  
"Tara!"   
  
Tara recoiled and then reluctantly held forth her hand. Willow grasped it and closed her eyes, whispering one word.   
  
"Bind."   
  
When Willow opened her eyes, Dawn gasped. The witch's eyes were completely black. And she was smiling. Dawn tried to pull away and was shocked to discover that she couldn't even move her fingers. Tara began to cry.   
  
"Helios, hear my voice! I beseech you, hear my cry, understand my pain. Humbly will I submit to you if you heed my plea. Your light sees all. Remove the darkness surrounding the one I seek. Helios, I implore you, aid me now. Bring Buffy Summers to me!"   
  
Dawn's mouth dropped open. Willow leered at her and closed her eyes as she raised her face towards the ceiling.   
  
"Helios! Buffy Summers once walked in your light. Find her!" yelled Willow, drool oozing over her lower lip as she bared her teeth.   
  
*****   
  
"It's okay, Matty. It didn't go too deep. Just help me up," said Faith, wincing as she tried to rise into a sitting position. Matthieu put one hand around her back.   
  
"Faith, don't move. I'll get an ambulance."   
  
"No! I told you, I'll be fine," yelled Faith, wincing again. Matthieu pulled his hand away and looked at it. There was blood on his palm.   
  
"Faith, the blade went all the way through. You need..."   
  
"No! No doctors," snapped Faith, shaking her head.   
  
"Look, what's the problem here? You have a police record? We'll just give 'em a false name in the Emergency room and clear out after they've patched you up," said Matthieu.   
  
Faith laughed, grimacing with the effort. It was the last emotion he had expected. She got to one knee and then carefully stood up without his help. Matthieu stood...and took a step back. Faith looked at him, choking back tears. The rain plastered her hair to the sides of her face.   
  
"You might bleed to death," pleaded Matthieu.   
  
"I wish I could," whispered Faith.   
  
Matthieu stared blankly at her, eyes wide. For the first time she thought she saw a hint, a trace of fear. Then it was gone.   
  
"Shit! I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way," said Faith, biting her lower lip.   
  
"I don't understand," whispered back Matthieu.   
  
"Don't you? How can you not?" cried Faith, her voice becoming small, like a lost child. "You kissed me. Why are my lips so cold? Why wasn't I gasping for breath after our embrace? You, you had your hand on my neck...why wasn't my pulse racing, my heart pounding...like yours?"   
  
Faith's face contorted with pain, her tears now mixing with the rainfall, running down her cheeks. Matthieu didn't move. Water poured loudly from a broken downspout further down the alley. They were more than alone.   
  
"Damn it! It's...it's just not fair!" yelled Faith.   
  
"Faith, I..."   
  
"You said I wasn't like other girls. You had no idea how right you were. I'd better go now," cringed Faith, hesitating. "Goodbye, Matthieu. I'm sorry...I am so sorry."   
  
Faith turned and walked away from him, desperately hoping he would say something, anything. Not that it would matter.   
  
"Don't go."   
  
Faith stopped and closed her eyes but didn't turn around.   
  
"You're different how?" challenged Matthieu.   
  
Faith turned her head, looking back over her shoulder.   
  
"You're smarter than that, Matthieu."   
  
"Yeah, I've been around. I knew what you were as soon as you touched me. Least I suspected as much. Figured you were just playing me, having some warped sense of fun, a sick game before you killed me. So, if you're not like the others...how are you any different?"   
  
Faith turned fully to face him.   
  
"I have a soul. They don't. And I hunt them, not humans," replied Faith arrogantly.   
  
"You are...were...a Slayer?" asked Matthieu, for the first time showing surprise.   
  
"How do you know that word?" demanded Faith, her eyes cold.   
  
"Does it matter? I know what a vampire is," shrugged Matthieu.   
  
Faith looked away for a moment, then tried to meet his eyes but couldn't.   
  
"I was. I don't know what I am now."   
  
"But you don't feed on humans?" frowned Matthieu.   
  
"Not very often," smiled Faith. Matthieu's eyes opened wide, pushing up his eyebrows.   
  
"That was a joke!" said Faith, shaking her head. "You knew what I was, so this was all what, just a game to you? You get off on this? Flirting with death in a new way?"   
  
Matthieu took a step towards her. Faith allowed him to. And he kept walking until he stood in front of her. He slowly extended his hand until it touched her own. She allowed him to pull her hand away from her side. The wound had almost closed over.   
  
"No, it was more than that. Much more. You intrigue me, Faith. Maybe you can't understand this, but what happened to you...it doesn't matter. Not to me," smiled Matthieu.   
  
He put his hand over the wound and she tensed.   
  
"Still hurts?" he asked.   
  
"A little sore. Should be better by tomorrow, or at least I hope so. I'm not sure. I'm kinda new at this," shrugged Faith.   
  
"How new? Years? Decades?" he asked, then lowered his voice. "More?"   
  
"Uh, try months," answered Faith.   
  
"Oh. I'm sorry," managed Matthieu, visibly thrown.   
  
"It's okay. And by the way, I wasn't talking about the wound," smiled Faith, putting her arms around his shoulders, drawing him in. He only looked at her for a moment before smiling.   
  
Their lips met, softly at first then more eagerly as they each let go and, out of necessity, began to trust one another. Matthieu leaned back, catching his breath. Faith reached behind her neck and tugged at the wet string holding her top up. It came undone, the halter falling down between them, only held to her being tied at the waist. He took her body in and sharply inhaled. Both of his hands quickly covered her breasts and his mouth was on hers again.   
  
"We could go back to my place," moaned Matthieu.   
  
"Only have a few hours until sunrise. Wouldn't want to waste the time," muttered Faith quickly.   
  
Matthieu smiled again and leaned in, kissing her neck. Moving down, Faith tensed as the stubble on his cheek rubbed against the softness of her wet skin. He moved a hand aside, replacing it with his mouth and pushed Faith back against the wall behind them. She closed her eyes and held the back of his head with both hands. It didn't seem to be raining as hard. Or at least she didn't notice.   
  
*****   
  
The candle had nearly burned away now. Hardened wax spread over the plate the candle rested on like sap from a dying tree. Willow slowly turned her head, again searching for the smallest hint that the seance had worked. She was panting, unable to catch her breath, her body unwilling to inhale deeply. Her shirt pressed wet upon her back, her hair clung to the sides of her face. Neither girl looked at her and neither of them dared to speak.   
  
"Helios, why? What is it that you demand of me? Show me," called Willow.   
  
Tara raised her eyes, forced herself to look at the girl she thought she knew. Her hand trembled in Willow's vice-like grip. The room offered no answers.   
  
Willow lowered her head, chin against her chest, and began to cry.   
  
"Willow," whispered Tara, her breath shattering the silence.   
  
Willow nodded once.   
  
"Release," answered Willow. Dawn and Tara felt Willow release them from her grip, their hands repulsed as if abhorred by her touch. Willow covered her face with both hands, silently sobbing. Tara caught her before she could collapse onto the floor. She pulled Willow against her chest, running her fingers through her hair and glanced at Dawn. Dawn sat emotionless, empty and drained, her face pale even in the dark.   
  
"Tara, I'm so cold," muttered Willow as she shivered, searching more for warmth than comfort in her lover's body. Tara kissed the top of her head.   
  
"Shh, it's over now. I'm here, honey. I'm here," promised Tara.   
  
From downstairs came the sound of a gently closing door. Willow tensed, her hands now on Tara's shoulders, her fingers digging painfully downward. Tara pushed her away, easing Willow's grip, but still held on to support her.   
  
"Is it Faith?" whispered Tara, her voice timid and hopeful.   
  
Willow cocked her head to one side, listening. She looked back at Tara, eyes wide and still black, and shook her head no.   
  
"Buffy?" yelled Dawn, springing to her feet.   
  
"No Dawn, wait!" warned Willow.   
  
But Dawn had already made it past the door and wasn't slowing down. Willow tried to stand and had to lean heavily on Tara for support as the room spun around her.   
  
"Tara, help me up," sighed Willow, closing her eyes to fight off the sudden nausea gripping her.   
  
Tara stood, pulling Willow up with her and they stumbled after Dawn. The only sound in the empty room now was from the flickering candles. And, almost softer, a clicking sound, somewhat like fine sandpaper being rubbed together. If anyone had looked they would have noticed that the Scrabble letters were more spread out than before. In fact, they spelled, very distinctly, three words.   
  
Where am I.   
  
*****   
  
Faith tied her halter strings together behind her neck, smiling as he watched her.   
  
"Faith, would you like to spend the night...er, day, I mean, with me?" asked Matthieu, buckling his belt. "I sleep in pretty late myself."   
  
Faith looked away for a moment, biting her lower lip, something that seemingly was becoming a habit.   
  
"Or I could take you home. I guess you want to look after your niece," sighed Matthieu.   
  
They both glanced up at the sky at the same time. It had stopped raining.   
  
"No. No, it's not that."   
  
"Hey, it's no big deal," shrugged Matthieu.   
  
"Yes. It is. To me, anyway."   
  
"Then...what?" asked Matthieu, thrown by her indecision.   
  
Faith looked down and slowly shook her head.   
  
"I'll take you home," sighed Matthieu, defeated.   
  
"You don't understand. It's not you. Matty, there's something you need to know about me."   
  
Matthieu reached out for her hand and held it. Faith smiled weakly. Still, she was grateful for his touch.   
  
"Obviously I sleep most of the day away," began Faith.   
  
"So do I," smiled Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah, but...but there's an hour or two during the day when I can't wake up. Almost impossible to, in fact, no matter what you do. Guess you could say I'm dead to the world," laughed Faith.   
  
Matthieu didn't smile in return.   
  
"I think it's 'cause I'm new at this. But, see, I'm really vulnerable then. Defenseless," said Faith, whispering the last word.   
  
Matthieu let go of her hand.   
  
"You don't trust me," nodded Matthieu.   
  
"No, it's not that! You don't understand. Matty, my whole life...I've never trusted anyone. Or when I did, let's just say it went badly. You get that? Can you? Because..."   
  
Faith cringed, seeing Matthieu's face, seeing his eyes avoid her.   
  
"Your niece, Dawn. You trust her," offered Matthieu.   
  
"That's different. She's like a sister to me, and I made a promise to protect her."   
  
Matthieu took a deep breath and looked up.   
  
"Faith, it's okay. Maybe we're going too fast here. Let me take you home."   
  
Faith's face contorted with grief and she turned away so that he wouldn't see her tears. Matthieu stepped towards her but she held her hand up, stopping him. He waited, unsure of what to do or say.   
  
Lowering her arm just a little, Faith rotated her hand until it was palm up. She looked up at him and shook her head once.   
  
"Take me home," she whispered.   
  
"You mean..."   
  
"I mean," nodded Faith, forcing a smile. Matthieu smiled in return. He gripped her hand gently and brought it to his lips with a kiss.   
  
"Okay, then," he said approvingly. "We're here!"   
  
Faith narrowed her eyes at him.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Um...I live in an apartment above the bar," frowned Matthieu.   
  
Faith opened her mouth and tried not to laugh.   
  
"And so we humped like two rabbits in heat out here because...?" said Faith, wanting an explanation.   
  
"I didn't want to ruin the mood?" winced Matthieu. Faith stared at him in disbelief.   
  
"Whateva," grinned Faith, stressing her Boston accent. "Uh, you do know that you'll have to invite me in, right?"   
  
"Again with the manners. Faith, I know you called me a gentleman, but..."   
  
"No, silly. It's a little more complicated than that."   
  
"Oh."   
  
*****   
  
"It's you," said Dawn, stopping before she reached the bottom step.   
  
"Um, yes. Sorry. I didn't wake you, did I? And were you expecting someone else?" asked Giles, switching from being apologetic to suspicious.   
  
Dawn's only response was to slowly, sadly, shake her head.   
  
"Dawn...what's wrong?" asked Giles.   
  
Just then Tara came down the stairs, her arm around Willow's waist. Willow had one arm draped over Tara's shoulder.   
  
"Giles!" said Tara. Willow eased herself from Tara's support but had to lean unsteadily against the wall behind her.   
  
"What are you doing here so late? Um...care for some tea?" asked Willow innocently, trying to avoid looking directly at him.   
  
"I know what you're doing," said Giles confidently, crossing his arms.   
  
"Doing? We're not...I mean, it's just us girls. Doing...girl stuff," shrugged Tara.   
  
"Right. It's a slumber party," nodded Willow.   
  
Giles lowered his glasses to the end of his nose and looked over them at Willow. Willow quickly smiled without opening her mouth and looked away.   
  
"Were you successful?" asked Giles, now removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Tara and Dawn turned to look at Willow. Willow slowly slid down with her back to the wall and sat down on the staircase. Giles put his glasses back on and waited patiently.   
  
"Giles, you don't understand..."   
  
"Yes, Willow, I do. You see, I'm not here to stop you. On the contrary...I came to help."   
  
Willow looked up. Her black eyes didn't seem to bother Giles. In fact, he was smiling.   
  
"I tried. It didn't work," swallowed Willow.   
  
"And she's too exhausted to try again," protested Tara.   
  
"I can see that," agreed Giles.   
  
Tara puffed out her cheeks, relieved to hear his answer.   
  
"You'll need to rest. And you'll need this," said Giles, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a bronze knife almost as long as his forearm.   
  
Dawn raised her eyebrows, wondering what Giles had in mind. She looked up and noticed that everyone was now staring at her. She could fathom no emotion in the dullness of Willow's black eyes. Tara seemed upset, almost sad. And Giles...Giles was actually grinning at her, as if he would break out into laughter.   
  
"I think I better go blow the candles out. Wouldn't want to burn the house down," said Dawn flatly as she turned, not waiting for an answer.   
  
She walked quickly, knowing without looking back that they were watching her. Almost running into the room, she knelt down and blew out the first two candles. The mirror was no longer fogged over. With a sigh she stood, glancing once at the door behind her. Nothing had disturbed the sand. Dawn clenched her hand into a fist. She could either cry or scream.   
  
Lashing out with her foot, she kicked the Scrabble tiles across the rug.   
  
"Damn it!" she yelled, fighting back the tears. Kneeling down, she blew out the candle that had been in the center of the circle. Then Dawn sat back and simply wrapped her arms around her legs and cried, pressing her forehead against her knees.   
  
"Damn it to hell," she whispered, gripping her knees tighter.   
  
Dawn wasn't sure, but the room seemed colder than before.   
  
*****   
  
"And here's the bedroom. Well, that's the grand tour. Not much, but it's home. Why don't you get comfortable while I go brush my teeth and stuff?" suggested Matthieu.   
  
"Sure," nodded Faith. "And I'll check to see if those interesting drapes are closed tightly enough. Nice color, by the way," she commented sarcastically.   
  
But Matthieu hadn't heard her. He was staring at the mirror above the dresser across from the bed, only seeing his reflection. He felt Faith's arms wrap around his waist, ghostlike. The color drained from Matthieu's face.   
  
"Having second thoughts?" asked Faith.   
  
Matthieu turned his head to face her. The room no longer seemed to be spinning.   
  
"What? No. Of course not," said Matthieu, his voice thick with unfelt confidence.   
  
"Knowing what I am is one thing. To see it, feel it...accept it, well, that's another thing completely," said Faith. She nodded towards the mirror.   
  
Matthieu again looked into the mirror. Faith hugged him a little tighter and he smiled.   
  
"It's okay to be freaked about it," encouraged Faith.   
  
"What did you do? The first time, I mean. When you first looked into the mirror?" asked Matthieu, still staring at his reflection. Faith laughed.   
  
"I tore the damn thing off the wall!"   
  
He turned around and held her at arm's length.   
  
"I'm cool, Faith."   
  
"You sure you're okay?" she asked, trying not to smile.   
  
"Yeah. I'll be right back," he added, slipping in a quick kiss. Faith reluctantly let her fingers slip from his shirt.   
  
When he returned Faith was under the covers, her clothes in a pile on the floor. She had covered the mirror with the comforter. Matthieu pulled his shirt over his head and undid his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He lay down next to Faith and she threw her arm around him.   
  
"Do you need anything?" asked Matthieu awkwardly. Faith looked at him, puzzled, then smiled.   
  
"No. Nothing. And don't worry, I'm not hungry."   
  
Matthieu raised one eyebrow and she laughed. Looking into his eyes, her smile slowly melted. She nestled against his shoulder.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
"Mm?"   
  
"What are you thinking about?"   
  
"I...I'm not thinking. Not reacting. I'm just feeling...anticipating," said Faith, snuggling closer.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Matthieu, you have no idea what this means to me. To feel your breath on me, to have the warmth of your body against mine."   
  
Faith raised her head and smiled.   
  
"What?" asked Matthieu.   
  
"Nothing," giggled Faith.   
  
"Oh, come on."   
  
"Okay, I'll try to explain this. When I was a little girl in Boston, we had some wicked cold nights. And my Grandma would come into my room and cover me with this old patchwork quilt...tell me a story until I would fall asleep. Wasn't until later that I found out she didn't have a quilt for herself, that she was cold so that I wouldn't be," sighed Faith as well as she could, breathless.   
  
Matthieu smiled and propped his head up on an elbow.   
  
"Anyway, that quilt always made me think of her. Warm, comforting, safe...so I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, you're sorta like an old blanket to me. That make any sense?" frowned Faith.   
  
"Yeah. It does," nodded Matthieu, planting a kiss on her nose. "When you see me you think of an old lady."   
  
Faith grinned and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.   
  
"Hey, my grandma had a mean right hook. Just ask my grandpa."   
  
Matthieu threw his head back and laughed. He put both hands under his head and stared at the ceiling.   
  
What are you thinking?" whispered Faith.   
  
"No, you'll only laugh."   
  
"I won't," protested Faith, sitting up, holding the sheet in front of her.   
  
"You sure?" asked Matthieu, grinning.   
  
"I promise," nodded Faith.   
  
Matthieu shrugged.   
  
"Your feet are cold," said Matthieu with a straight face.   
  
Faith couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing. Then she punched him, lightly, on the arm.   
  
"So, you can't be woken up later on...no matter what I do?" smiled Matthieu.   
  
"Pervert. Guess I should tire you out now so that you won't wake up later," grinned Faith. "You into kink? Want to uncover the mirror?"   
  
It was Matthieu's turn to laugh, but Faith's lips were on his before he could. He rolled over onto her but then pulled his lips away.   
  
"What?" asked Faith, concerned.   
  
"Um, no one knows where you are, right?"   
  
"No. So what?"   
  
"Well...uh, do you want to call Dawn? Let her know..."   
  
"Later," smiled Faith.   
  
She pulled him to her and as they kissed he reached out to shut the nightstand drawer shut without her noticing. It had been open just a crack. And he wondered if Faith had seen the wooden stake inside.   
  
END OF PART FOUR


	5. Five

Title: Shadows And Regrets   
  
PART FIVE   
  
Tara stood and slipped her arms into her robe, pulling the belt into a knot across her stomach. She inhaled slowly and deeply, eyes never leaving a still asleep Willow. Leaning forward, she adjusted the blanket to cover her and kissed her hair. Smiling, Tara turned and tiptoed towards the door.   
  
"Tara?"   
  
Tara stopped and turned around. Willow was sitting up.   
  
"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" pouted Tara.   
  
"I don't think so. Come here," smiled Willow. Tara smiled back and walked over to the bed. She smiled even more seeing that Willow's eyes were back to normal.   
  
"Good morning," said Willow, tugging at Tara's robe.   
  
"Good morning," repeated Tara, sitting on the edge of the bed. They kissed and as Tara tried to pull away Willow stopped her with a hand upon her back. And as the kiss ended she tugged playfully at Tara's lower lip with her teeth. Tara's eyes opened in surprise.   
  
Willow didn't say anything. Instead she reached for the knot on Tara's robe, trying to untie it with one hand. Tara put her hand over Willow's and gave her a questioning look.   
  
"You sure?" whispered Tara. "I mean, if you're not..."   
  
Willow silenced her with a smile and a nod. Tara stood and undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor. Willow pushed the blanket aside and stood in front of her, playing with the bottom of Tara's T-shirt.   
  
"I'll get it," smiled Tara, reaching down to pull the shirt over her head. Willow knocked her hands away and grabbed the shirt, forcing it up. Tara hesitated, then raised her arms. Willow winked at her and yanked the shirt free, throwing it aside.   
  
Even before Tara could lower her arms Willow's mouth was on hers, hard and desperate, one hand on the back of her head, pulling Tara to her. Tara eased her arms around Willow's waist, tensing as Willow's kiss became fierce, almost painful. She turned her face, breaking the embrace.   
  
"Honey, go easy. There's no rush," said Tara softly.   
  
Willow's fingers twisted Tara's hair and she wrenched her head back, her mouth instantly on Tara's neck.   
  
"Willow!" cried Tara, pushing her away. Willow dropped her hands to her side, staring at her with her mouth open.   
  
"What?" demanded Willow. Tara's eyes opened wide, her head lowered as she studied the girl in front of her.   
  
"What?" repeated Tara. "Willow...what's wrong? This isn't like you."   
  
"I thought...I thought you wanted to...I mean, I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't..."   
  
Willow turned away and covered her mouth with one hand. Tara sighed and gently put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her tense at her touch.   
  
"Willow, it's okay. It doesn't matter. Come lay down with me. We'll just, just snuggle for a while. Okay?" asked Tara. Willow nodded without turning around. Tara let her fingertips brush down Willow's back as she sat down on the bed.   
  
Willow turned and smiled. She stepped over to Tara and straddled her legs, resting her hands on her shoulders.   
  
"We can snuggle later," whispered Willow.   
  
Tara swallowed, unsure of what to do, what to say. Willow pushed her down upon the bed but gently, almost playfully, and pulled her own top over her head, dropping it to the floor. Reaching down, she covered Tara's breasts with her hands, caressing them as she lowered her mouth to touch Tara's lips. The kiss was soft, tender. Tara tried to relax. Her body had ached for this, had needed Willow's reassuring embrace, her comforting touch. But Tara kept her eyes open, wary and afraid.   
  
Willow's eyes were once again black.   
  
*****   
  
Tara eased herself up, careful not to disturb Willow. She reached down to pick up her robe from the floor, just now noticing the bruise on her shoulder. Slipping the robe on, finding comfort in the promise of its warmth, Tara ignored the sting across her back as the fabric brushed against the scratches there. Hugging herself, Tara glanced at Willow and shook her head.   
  
Closing the door softly behind her, Tara turned and gasped as she almost bumped into Dawn.   
  
"About time one of you got up!" said Dawn.   
  
"Well, um, you know, it was really late last night before we got to bed. Is, is there something wrong?" asked Tara.   
  
"Faith didn't come home last night," sighed Dawn.   
  
"Oh. Dawn, I wouldn't worry. She can more than take care of herself," smiled Tara reassuringly.   
  
"But I don't even know where she is! I told her to get a cell phone," whined Dawn.   
  
"We talked about that, Dawn. What if you called her and it went off when she was sneaking up on some vamp? Not good. Hence the lack of cell phones," reminded Tara.   
  
"But...but she's not safe. Not during the day. I'm officially worried," pouted Dawn, crossing her arms.   
  
"Maybe it got late and she couldn't get home in time before the sun rose. She's probably holed up in some sewer," shrugged Tara.   
  
Dawn rolled her eyes and then exhaled, puffing out her cheeks.   
  
"Okay, that was meant to sound more comforting than it came out as. Tell you what, I'll take a shower and then we'll go down to the Magic shop. Maybe Giles heard from her. Dawn, I'm sure she's fine," said Tara, putting an arm on Dawn's shoulder.   
  
"Fine," answered Dawn, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "Want coffee?"   
  
"Yes. I think I need some. Thanks."   
  
Dawn turned around and stomped down the stairs. Passing Faith's room, Tara glanced in at the bed, obviously unslept in. Her eyes rested for a moment on the photo of Buffy. Tara leaned against the door, wincing at the pain in her shoulder.   
  
"You sure do like to complicate things, don't you, Faith?" sighed Tara.   
  
*****   
  
"Good morning, Anya! Hey Xander! Isn't it just gorgeous out today?" asked Willow cheerfully.   
  
"Uh, sure Will. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. Another amazing day here in Sunny D," said Xander sarcastically.   
  
"Exactly!" nodded Willow, still smiling. "Is Giles in back?"   
  
"Yes, he is," answered Anya, now glancing at Tara and Dawn, just walking into the shop. "Did...did I actually see you skip out there on the sidewalk?"   
  
"Great. I need to talk to him," answered Willow, ignoring Anya and walking away without waiting for Tara. Tara and Dawn now joined them at the counter.   
  
"Did Faith call? Do you know if she talked to Giles?" asked Dawn anxiously.   
  
"Not that I know of. Why?" asked Xander.   
  
"I didn't think so," said Dawn, deflated. She walked away and sat down in a chair by the front window, staring out at the street.   
  
"What's with her?" asked Anya.   
  
"Faith didn't come home last night. She's worried," explained Tara.   
  
"Oh. Well, she shouldn't be. Faith's probably with Matthieu, lucky girl," smiled Anya.   
  
"Probably," agreed Tara. "Guess it's best to have a little faith in Faith."   
  
"Or a little Matthieu in Faith, from her point of view," said Anya. Tara glanced at Xander. He only smiled.   
  
"But we don't know where he lives or for that matter very much about him," said Tara.   
  
"Oh. Well, there's that," shrugged Anya.   
  
"You're not a big fan of hers, are you?" asked Tara, repressing a smile.   
  
"No. I don't trust her," replied Anya.   
  
"Okay...um, ignoring her past for the moment...why?" asked Tara.   
  
"She's had sex with Xander. I don't like the way she looks at him," said Anya, looking at Xander.   
  
"Anya..."   
  
"Xander, don't Anya me! Why wouldn't she want you again?" frowned Anya.   
  
Xander raised his hand to protest but froze, looking at Tara.   
  
"There's no way to safely answer that question without exposing my fragile male ego to ridicule, is there?" he asked knowingly. Tara smiled and shook her head.   
  
"So, Anya," offered Tara, trying to change the subject, "are you getting interested in arts and crafts?"   
  
Tara held up a coffee can covered in red, white and blue construction paper.   
  
"Oh, that! It's for my tips," smiled Anya proudly.   
  
"Tips," repeated Tara.   
  
"Yes. I should be compensated for assisting our customers above and beyond my meager wages," nodded Anya.   
  
"Anya," warned Xander, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.   
  
"Oh, um...humble wages. I meant to say humble," corrected Anya.   
  
"That's better," smiled Xander.   
  
"But I should be rewarded for servicing our customers. It is the American way. Oh, honey, I didn't mean service in a sexual way," cringed Anya.   
  
"The thought never crossed my mind," replied Xander, pecking her on the cheek with a kiss. He received a smile for his efforts.   
  
"What does Giles think of your idea?" asked Tara, putting the can back on the counter.   
  
"He doesn't know yet," said Anya in a hushed tone, glancing down the hall.   
  
"Tara, Willow seems very perky today," said Xander.   
  
"Yes, she's...perky," agreed Tara reluctantly, not looking directly at him.   
  
"You two had sex!" announced Anya excitedly.   
  
"Um, Anya, you might want to yell that a little louder. I don't think the people outside heard you," said Xander as Tara blushed.   
  
"Sorry. I'm just happy for them! And apparently happier than Tara," said Anya, suddenly confused. Tara took in a deep breath.   
  
"Well, that's just it. We had...sex," whispered Tara, her face turning even redder.   
  
"Okay...there still seems to be a problem here. What are we talking, a new position that didn't live up to expectations? Because I can tell you..."   
  
"I'm sure you can," interrupted Xander. "I think what Tara is trying to say is that it was only physical. They didn't make love, they had sex."   
  
"Oh," said Anya, looking at Tara for confirmation.   
  
"Thank you, Xander. That's it, exactly," said Tara.   
  
"Still," murmured Anya. Tara rolled her eyes.   
  
"See, it was never like that before. It was always...intimate. It was never just about sex," clarified Tara. "If that's what you could call what we...sorry. Never mind."   
  
"Tara, I know you're upset, but you shouldn't judge the state of your relationship over one...event," said Xander gently. "Give Will some time. She's had a rough time of it lately."   
  
"I know. Thanks, Xander," said Tara, getting a smile in return. "Excuse me, I need to ask Giles something."   
  
Anya turned to face Xander as Tara walked away.   
  
"So, do you or do you not find Faith attractive?" asked Anya. "It's okay, you know. We all have our fantasies."   
  
Xander leaned over and banged his head several times on the counter.   
  
As soon as Tara entered the exercise room Giles nodded towards her and he and Willow stopped talking. Tara noticed but ignored it.   
  
"Morning, Giles. Did Willow ask you about Faith?"   
  
"Uh, Faith? No. What about Faith?" he asked.   
  
Tara shot a shocked look at Willow.   
  
"Oh, yeah. I forgot," shrugged Willow.   
  
"You forgot? Willow, you know how upset Dawn is!"   
  
"Well I'm sorry but she's overreacting. I didn't think it was that important," added Willow.   
  
"Not important? She didn't come home last night and Dawn's worried sick. Giles, she didn't call you?" asked Tara.   
  
"Uh, no. No, she didn't. But I wouldn't worry. Faith can take care of herself," nodded Giles confidently. Tara stared at him for a moment.   
  
"Then you're not worried about her?" asked Tara.   
  
"No reason to be worried," shrugged Giles. "She'll turn up."   
  
Again Tara stared at him, this time with her mouth slightly open.   
  
"Giles, let's get started. I'll go tell the others," said Willow as she left the room.   
  
"We'll be right there," answered Giles.   
  
"The others? You're going to tell Xander and Anya about tonight?" said Tara, surprised.   
  
"Should we lie to them?" offered Giles with a condescending tone.   
  
"What? Oh, no. No, of course not. I just thought..."   
  
"Tara, I know you're worried about Willow, but she'll be fine. I promise. We have to do this," stated Giles.   
  
"Do we? Why? You, you said that she shouldn't be doing spells, even simple ones. This is well beyond simple!"   
  
"I'll explain why when we tell Xander and Anya," said Giles, taking a step to go. Tara grabbed his wrist to stop him.   
  
"Giles!"   
  
Giles looked down at her hand and then glared at her. Tara let go. Quickly.   
  
"Fine. You want to know why we have to do this?" asked Giles, keeping his voice low.   
  
Tara nodded once, blinking and taking a step back from him without realizing it.   
  
"Another Slayer has not been called. We knew that was a strong possibility. Buffy died once before, so...so Pat is next in line. Or..."   
  
Tara widened her eyes, encouraging him to continue.   
  
"Or the Council could be wrong," said Giles, glancing at the door behind them. "I'm not going to tell Dawn this but...maybe...I mean, it's impossible, but...Buffy might not be dead."   
  
"What!? Giles, that, that's...impossible. We saw her. I, I checked her pulse. Giles...she was cold. Buffy is dead," winced Tara.   
  
"I hope so," said Giles, inhaling slowly. Tara's face lit up in understanding.   
  
"So by contacting her, you'll know she's dead," exclaimed Tara.   
  
"Would you prefer to dig up her grave?" sighed Giles. Tara flinched in disgust.   
  
"Giles, how can you even..."   
  
"We don't know how she died. Her body could be here but her soul...she could be trapped in Glory's dimension. And if that's true, and she found a way back to us..."   
  
"Oh goddess!" cried Tara, covering her mouth. "She could be buried alive!"   
  
Giles closed his eyes, but when he opened them again Tara gasped at the intensity within. This was a man that she didn't know, only a semblance of what he had been. Remorseless, determined...a shadow.   
  
"I don't care what happens to Willow. I have to know. Don't try to interfere," cautioned Giles coldly. He spun and left the room.   
  
Tara took one step and felt her knees give out. She sat down awkwardly, fighting back the bile at the back of her throat, hoping she wouldn't throw up. Dizzy, lightheaded, the room was spinning. Tara's world was spinning.   
  
*****   
  
Spike lay on his back in his crypt. He should be asleep by now. Or at least tired. But he was wide awake. All he could do was wait. Maybe Dawn would sneak over and visit him. And maybe he could tell her. Maybe. But he hadn't even challenged Giles about what he had seen. How could he tell her?   
  
"Bloody hell, Spike! Just confront the Watcher! What's the worst he could do, tell ya to sod off?" yelled Spike at the ceiling.   
  
Spike lit another cigarette and stared at the ceiling.   
  
*****   
  
Tara sat down in a chair next to Dawn. They had obviously been waiting for her but no one said anything. Tara glanced across the table at Willow but she didn't look at Tara. Only Dawn seemed to notice how pale Tara was.   
  
"Hey. You okay? You don't look so good," whispered Dawn. Tara barely nodded.   
  
"Xander, are you okay with this?" asked Willow.   
  
"I'm in," he replied firmly.   
  
"You sure? Because..."   
  
"I'm in," he repeated, raising his voice. Willow smiled her approval.   
  
"Now that we're all here I'll continue," said Giles as if annoyed at the interruption. He glanced at Tara but she didn't dare look in his direction.   
  
"I've explained to Xander and Anya why we want to call upon Buffy and that Willow tried last night but failed. Tonight we're going to try again. And this time we will succeed," announced Giles confidently. He unwrapped the bronze knife he had showed to the girls last night from a yellow cloth and set it down on the table.   
  
Everyone stared at it. Tara closed her eyes.   
  
"This blade was made from bronze that had been melted down from the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the seven Ancient Wonders of the world. After Alexander the Great died from fever, his realm was fought over. Antigous sent his son Demetrius to lay siege to Rhodes in 282 BC. He failed...and the siege engines were melted down to build a statue in tribute to the god Helios, patron god of that city," said Giles as he began to pace around the table.   
  
"Helios. Wasn't he the sun god?" asked Xander.   
  
"Very good, Xander," praised Giles.   
  
"Thumb through enough books and sooner or later something's bound to stick," grinned Xander proudly.   
  
"Honey, didn't you think he was Helium, god of floating balloons?" asked Anya.   
  
"Anya, let's not interrupt Giles. He's in his element now," said Xander.   
  
"Okay," nodded Anya. Giles tried not to smile.   
  
"That statue stood over one hundred ten feet tall and guarded the entrance to the harbor of Rhodes. It was written that a man couldn't wrap his arms around the thumb. But a little more than half a century later it was toppled by an earthquake. The people of Rhodes believed that Helios was displeased or offended and refused to rebuild the statue. It's said that in the seventh century some 900 camels carted away the remains off to modern day Syria...where this blade was forged."   
  
"And this is going to help us how?" asked Dawn, trying to look at Giles instead of the knife.   
  
"The god Helios sees everything that light touches. His lover was buried alive...and still he found her," said Giles, looking down at his hands, his voice faltering. "According to mythology he turned her body into frankincense."   
  
"Of course!" said Willow, slapping her forehead. "We need to burn frankincense. And this knife will make the simple blood offering more acceptable."   
  
"Yes. I, I believe that's how it works. We call upon him to find Buffy," swallowed Giles. "And the seance needs to be closer to where she died."   
  
"Not...near her grave?" asked Xander.   
  
"No. Her spirit probably doesn't know where her body is and will stay near the place of death. Or perhaps somewhere familiar, like...here," added Giles, glancing around the room.   
  
"What about Faith? What do we tell her?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Nothing," said both Giles and Willow at the same time. Willow nodded at Giles and then looked at Dawn.   
  
"We don't know how she'll feel about...this. And since we really don't need her we thought it would be best if she didn't know about it," explained Willow.   
  
"So that she won't try to stop you if she doesn't like...this," said Dawn, frowning.   
  
"Exactly. I'm going to have her patrol out on the fringes of Sunnydale, maybe by the docks. I'll say that a demon has been spotted in the area or some such excuse," explained Giles. "By the time she gets back we should be done with the ceremony."   
  
"Maybe someone should patrol with her. To keep her distracted," added Anya.   
  
"No, that would only make her suspicious. We never patrol with her. Ever," said Tara.   
  
Tara looked around the table. The others seemed surprised, as if it had never occurred to them to offer to help Faith. Like they had all helped Buffy.   
  
"Giles, why wouldn't Faith want to be there? Maybe she can't help, but...I know she would want to be there. She didn't get to say goodbye," said Dawn softly.   
  
"No. I'm sorry, Dawn, but if Faith doesn't agree with us...well, I don't want her to interfere."   
  
"But..."   
  
"No. My decision is final. And I have a few preparations to make. If you'll excuse me," announced Giles, standing up without waiting for a reaction. Xander and Anya got up and walked over to the checkout counter, leaving only the three girls at the table.   
  
Tara found herself staring at Willow, torn between begging her to reconsider and wanting to scream at her in anger. Willow simply stared back pleasantly as if they had been talking about the weather. For a moment she seemed herself and Tara almost smiled. But Tara knew better. She glanced at Dawn. She had reached down into her backpack and had pulled out a sketch pad. Tara couldn't see what she was drawing.   
  
"Dawn...aren't you nervous about all this? Even just a little?" asked Tara.   
  
"Nope. Why should I be? I trust Willow," she replied, not looking up from her work. "And this feels...right somehow, you know?"   
  
"Evil never feels wrong," sighed Tara.   
  
"Tara. Didn't your father tell you that?" asked Willow, an edge to her voice.   
  
Tara stood, pushing the chair away with the back of her legs. She glared at Willow, her lower lip trembling.   
  
"No. My mother did. And need I remind you that she's dead?" answered Tara sharply.   
  
Willow winced but said nothing. Tara turned and walked quickly away.   
  
"Maybe you should go talk to her," said Dawn, watching Tara storm off. "She seems pretty upset."   
  
"No. She'll be fine. We'll all be fine," said Willow, nodding. But her smile didn't convince Dawn. Dawn put the pad of paper down on the table.   
  
"Willow, when was the last time Tara mentioned her mother?" asked Dawn.   
  
Willow looked at Dawn, considering this. She looked towards Tara who was now standing by the front door, staring out, arms crossed and not moving. Willow looked back vacantly at Dawn.   
  
*****   
  
Faith listened intently, aware of her surroundings even before she opened her eyes. The pillow next to her was cold. She didn't need to look at a clock; she sensed that it was still a couple of hours until sunset. Sitting up, she only wasted a few seconds looking at the empty bed beside her.   
  
"Typical," she groaned. And then she realized that her clothes weren't on the floor where she had left them. She stood up, letting the sheet fall from her, and decided to find a shirt of Matthieu's she could borrow.   
  
She opened the nightstand drawer next to the bed but found it empty. Faith slowly pushed the drawer shut, then turned and walked over to the closet. Glancing once back at the nightstand, Faith pulled a denim shirt off a hanger and slipped into it, buttoning up the front clumsily as she was used to the buttons being on the other side.   
  
She heard someone fumbling with keys and a moment later the door in the hall opened. Matthieu came into the bedroom carrying two brown paper bags, a red bandanna covering his head, knotted at the back of his neck. He didn't seem to be surprised to see her awake.   
  
"Good, you're up. And I'm likin' the look," smiled Matthieu, looking Faith up and down. She smiled and crossed her arms.   
  
"Oh, I hung your clothes out to dry. And I got us some...breakfast?" he said, holding up the bags for her approval. Faith raised one eyebrow.   
  
"This should be interesting," said Faith.   
  
"Once again you underestimate me," laughed Matthieu.   
  
"Don't be so sure," replied Faith.   
  
"What's that?"   
  
"Nothing," said Faith, shaking her head. Matthieu set the bags down on the bed.   
  
"Bacon, egg and cheese for me, and for you," said Matthieu, pulling out a white plastic cup and handing it to her.   
  
Faith looked at the cup for a moment before taking it.   
  
"I stopped by the butcher shop on the way back," he explained.   
  
"I'm...impressed," nodded Faith, pulling off the lid and sniffing at it.   
  
"Well, you said you don't...what I mean is, I got to thinking. Wasn't hard to figure out. You have to eat something, right?" smiled Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah. Thanks. That was very...thanks," smiled Faith.   
  
Matthieu reached into the bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, holding it up. Faith shook her head.   
  
"I don't smoke. Haven't learned how to inhale yet. It's, um, harder than you think. Spike...someone I know was going to teach me how, but we never got around to it," shrugged Faith.   
  
"That's cool. I don't smoke either. Uh, Faith? Does your face change when you drink that?" asked Matthieu cautiously.   
  
"You have seen a vampire before," answered Faith.   
  
"One or two," nodded Matthieu.   
  
"And yet lived to tell about it. You must have some interesting stories to tell," hinted Faith.   
  
"Not really. You just haven't seen how fast I can run. I can really haul ass when the need arises."   
  
"I'll bet," grinned Faith. "And no, my face doesn't change when I drink."   
  
Matthieu stepped over to her and kissed her forehead.   
  
"Hey, I didn't mean I wanted a peep show. I just wanted you to be comfortable. I just wanted you to know that it's okay if you, you change, you know? It won't bother me," said Matthieu, running a hand through her hair.   
  
"Might bother me," whispered Faith. "It even took me a long time to be comfortable drinking in front of my...in front of people I knew. And I don't show my true face, what I am, unless I'm really pissed off."   
  
Matthieu laughed.   
  
"Or hurt," added Faith.   
  
"Then we're cool. I mean, me, hurt you? Come on. You believe me, don't you?" asked Matthieu, resting his hand on her shoulder.   
  
"I want to. Guess if you wanted to you could've staked me while I slept."   
  
"Yeah. Guess I could have," said Matthieu, putting a hand under her chin and gently raising her face so that she had to look at him. "So...do you trust me now?"   
  
Faith smiled.   
  
"Maybe. And maybe you trust me. After all, I could've drained you while you slept," countered Faith. "There's a lot we don't know about each other."   
  
"So we'll talk over breakfast. I'd ask you into the kitchen but that shade on the window in there is in sad shape. Might be a little bright for you. So sit," said Matthieu, motioning at the bed.   
  
"Okay. But I need to make a phone call first."   
  
"Dawn?" asked Matthieu. Faith nodded.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"You ever think about the irony of...this? I mean, a Slayer now a vampire. That's a wow in my book."   
  
"I got past ironic real quick. Kinda accepted this as payback," said Faith flatly.   
  
"Payback? What are you talking about? You're one of the good guys, right? I mean, what did you do, kill someone?" asked Matthieu in jest.   
  
Faith looked down at the floor.   
  
"Oh. I'm...Faith, I had no idea," winced Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah. We need to talk. Hey, if it helps, the first time was an accident," said Faith, now staring coldly at him.   
  
"The first time?" he repeated flatly.   
  
"Sit. Eat. I need to call Dawn," said Faith, turning away from him.   
  
Matthieu slowly sat down, staring at her back. Faith turned back, looked down into the cup she held and then raised her eyes to Matthieu again. She hesitated, then lifted the cup and drank from it, watching him intently, hoping he would understand this gesture. She smiled for him as softly as she knew how and set the cup down on the nightstand.   
  
He just stared at her, his eyes dancing between fear and fascination. Faith licked her lips and picked up the phone.   
  
*****   
  
The phone rang and Dawn twisted her head around, seeing Anya pick up before the second ring. She couldn't hear what Anya was saying but she smiled and then held out the phone towards Dawn. Dawn ran from her chair and snatched the phone away from her.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
"Hey Dawnie! What's up?"   
  
"Don't you what's up me! Where the hell have you been?"   
  
"Aw, you do care!"   
  
Dawn exhaled sharply, shaking her head.   
  
"I'm sorry, I couldn't call until now. I'm with Matthieu. It was too early before and I kinda fell asleep. You know how that is," said Faith.   
  
"You coulda left a message!"   
  
"But I didn't want to wake you up. Hey, I'm okay. And, and thanks for caring so much. I mean that," said Faith.   
  
"You're just lucky you're not here right now. I'd smack you upside your head," threatened Dawn, causing Faith to laugh.   
  
"I said I was sorry. So, how was your day?" asked Faith.   
  
"Alright, I guess," sighed Dawn.   
  
"That's it? Just...alright?"   
  
Dawn rolled her eyes and leaned back against the counter.   
  
"Well...I did see a rainbow. Guess it's been a while since you saw one of those, huh?" smiled Dawn.   
  
"Yeah. Almost forgot about those."   
  
"And I love the smell of the street right after it rains, with the heat rising from the pavement. It's just so, so like..."   
  
"Like summer," finished Faith. "I remember. Funny how you take stuff like that for granted. It just passes you by."   
  
"Not any more," said Dawn, twisting the phone cord around her finger. "So...how was your night? You alley cat, you."   
  
Faith smiled but didn't laugh.   
  
"Are you implying something, Dawn?"   
  
"Can the poor guy still walk?" teased Dawn.   
  
"How old are you again? I'll tell you all about. I promise. Well, the PG-13 version anyway. I'll be home as soon as the sun sets, okay? Meet me there?"   
  
"Sure. Oh, Giles...um, I think he has...what I mean is, I think he wants you to patrol tonight. Down by the docks. But I'll let him tell you about that later. He's, uh, busy right now."   
  
"The docks? Tonight? Whatever."   
  
"Faith?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Thanks for calling," whispered Dawn.   
  
"I love you, Dawn."   
  
"Love you too, you pain in the ass," giggled Dawn.   
  
"Dawn!"   
  
"Just kidding. See you soon. Bye."   
  
"Bye."   
  
Dawn hung up the phone and smiled at Anya who had pretended not to listen.   
  
"So she's alright?" asked Anya.   
  
"Yeah. Guess I worry too much. You know, always darkest before the dawn," smiled Dawn.   
  
"No, it's always darkest after you dye your hair. You'll see. Wait 'til you get my age," winked Anya.   
  
"Anya!" whined Dawn. "And by the way, I'll never get to be your age."   
  
Anya paused for a second and then happily smiled.   
  
"Well, there's that."   
  
Dawn turned to look back at Willow but Willow was staring at Tara. And Tara still hadn't moved away from the door. Then Willow slowly pushed herself up from the table. Dawn assumed she would walk over to Tara but Willow turned and walked into the back to find Giles.   
  
Dawn sighed, not sure if sure was more disappointed that Willow hadn't comforted her girlfriend or that she hadn't asked about Faith.   
  
*****   
  
Faith hung up the phone and slowly turned to face Matthieu. His sandwich was on the brown bag next to him, untouched.   
  
"I'll explain everything. Said I would," said Faith, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his leg.   
  
"No need to."   
  
"Huh? Matthieu, I just told you that I killed someone. If you going to be part of my life now...and I'm hoping you will...I don't want there to be any secrets. I want you to trust me, understand?" asked Faith.   
  
"Okay. We'll put all our cards on the table. And I'm thinking my past won't be as colorful as yours," smiled Matthieu.   
  
"Count on it," answered Faith, rolling her eyes.   
  
"I'd like to meet Dawn. And after that...you have to be somewhere to be tonight? I ain't working and riding is easier than walking," offered Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah, but..."   
  
"Faith, I can handle myself in a fight."   
  
Faith studied him. And smiled.   
  
"I think you can. Okay, you can come with," nodded Faith reluctantly.   
  
"Gonna teach me how to hunt?" teased Matthieu.   
  
"No. Hunting is foreplay. I'm going to teach you how to kill."   
  
END OF PART FIVE


	6. Six

Title: Shadows and Regrets  
  
PART SIX  
  
Faith pulled off her helmet and shook her hair. Giles came out of the house and she handed the helmet to Matthieu.  
  
"Giles. What's the rush?"  
  
"I'm researching a prophecy. It's quite urgent, actually," he replied.  
  
"Oh, this is Matthieu. Matthieu, meet Giles," said Faith, tilting her head proudly towards her Watcher.  
  
"Nice to meet you, sir," smiled Matthieu as he offered his hand.  
  
"Likewise, Matthieu," answered Giles, shaking his hand. Faith could tell by his expression that he was mildly impressed with Matthieu's manners.  
  
"Giles, take a breath here. I haven't talked to you in what? Two days? Thought we were going to step up the training, remember?"  
  
"We will. As soon as this recent...problem resolves itself. Does Matthieu know about...your job?" hinted Giles.  
  
"He's on board. Knows everything. Or at least he thinks he does," winked Faith, causing Matthieu to smile.  
  
"Good. That's a small mercy. I need you to patrol down by the docks tonight. If my calculations are correct, a demon may be arriving tonight. Unfortunately I don't know the type yet."  
  
"No problem. I can handle one of anything," grinned Faith.  
  
"I should warn you then that this demon may prefer to work in groups of three. I simply don't know yet," shrugged Giles apologetically.  
  
"So I'll load up on some weapons. Hell, I miss using an ax," laughed Faith. Matthieu raised his eyebrows at her.  
  
"Don't underestimate an opponent, Faith," reminded Giles.  
  
"No. Of course not. But it's okay being confident, right? And aren't prophecies a little more specific? What's up with the vague?" inquired Faith, half teasingly.  
  
"It's...it's a difficult translation. These...prophecies always seem clear once they've come to pass," sighed Giles.  
  
"Don't be so modest. You kick ass with prophecies," smiled Faith, almost eliciting a smile from Giles.  
  
"Be that as it may, I suggest you not stay long. This demon could be arriving at any moment," warned Giles, growing impatient.  
  
"Pat's in town again," said Faith.  
  
"Oh, right. Um, have you met up with her yet?"  
  
Faith paused for a moment, thrown by Giles' indifference.  
  
"You knew she was here?" asked Faith, narrowing her eyes at him.  
  
"Yes. Quentin Travers called me from back home. She's here alone, possibility as another test of the Council. I imagine they want to see how resourceful she can be left to her own devices. If you need to talk to her she's staying at the motel out by the airport. How, how did you first meeting go?" asked Giles warily.  
  
Again Faith hesitated, staring in her Watcher's eyes.  
  
"She's staying where?"  
  
"Out by the airport. You know the place," said Giles.  
  
"Yeah. Sure," nodded Faith.  
  
"So...did Pat say anything about..."  
  
"No. A quick hi, how are ya, that's all. But I'll find her. Soon," promised Faith.  
  
"Very well. Buffy, I have to go."  
  
Faith gawked at him, unblinking.  
  
"Giles. You just called me Buffy," whispered Faith.  
  
"What? No, no I wouldn't..."  
  
But Giles couldn't mistake the pain on his Slayer's face.  
  
"I did?" swallowed Giles. Faith nodded once.  
  
"I'm...I'm sorry, I...Faith, I'm sorry. It's...I just..."  
  
"Go. We'll talk later," finished Faith, her face placid but her eyes clouded in agony.  
  
"Yes," answered Giles awkwardly. "If you'll excuse me."  
  
Giles put his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walked away.  
  
"Nice meeting you," said Matthieu, getting no response from Giles. He turned to face Faith.  
  
"Don't mind him. He's English. Once he warms up to you he's...still pretty much English," shrugged Faith.  
  
"Didn't this Pat have a message for him, some kinda warning?" asked Matthieu.  
  
"Yeah. Except she lied to me, told me she was staying somewhere else."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So I think I'm being played. I don't like that. And I don't trust the Council. Travers isn't back home, he's here. Not sure what bothers me more, being lied to...or Giles referring to England as home. This is his home now," said Faith, shaking her head and glancing in the direction Giles had gone.  
  
"The...Council?"  
  
"Come on, let's go meet the girls. And don't do anything to piss off Willow or Tara. They're witches."  
  
Faith turned to walk towards the house but Matthieu just stood there.  
  
"You're serious," he commented.  
  
"Yep. Don't worry, I'll put in a good word for ya," smiled Faith.  
  
"What about Dawn?" asked Matthieu.  
  
"Don't have to be afraid of her. Just don't turn your back on her."  
  
"Why? She have some special power?" asked Matthieu doubtfully.  
  
"Nah. But be warned, she's a hair puller. Now come on," grinned Faith, taking his hand.  
  
Faith pushed the front door open and was greeted by a smile and a hug from Dawn. Dawn stepped back and looked up at Matthieu.  
  
"So which one are you? Don? No, he had dark hair. John? Oh, I know! Kevin! Right?" smiled Dawn, watching Faith out of the corner of her eye. And now Matthieu looked at Faith. Faith caught on right away and reached out to mess up Dawn's hair but Dawn ducked under her hand, giggling.  
  
"Ignore her. She's just trying to get back at me for not calling last night," glared Faith.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Matthieu," said Dawn, extending her hand and still smiling.  
  
"Same here," agreed Matthieu, shaking her hand.  
  
"Dawn, Giles wants me to head out right away so I can't stay long," frowned Faith. "We'll have to catch up on stuff later."  
  
"That's okay. Willow and Tara are taking me out shopping. Think I'll look for some new shoes."  
  
"Sounds like fun. Matthieu, I have to check on something in the kitchen. Be right back," said Faith.  
  
"I'll be here," he smiled in return. Dawn followed Faith into the kitchen and Faith reached for the handle on the refrigerator door.  
  
"No need to check. I stopped by the butcher's on the way home," said Dawn. Faith turned and smiled at her.  
  
"Thanks. So, what do you think?" asked Faith, nodding back towards Matthieu.  
  
"Not bad. Bonus points for having a cute butt."  
  
Faith's eyes popped open and Dawn laughed. And then Faith laughed.  
  
"You're a lot like your sister, you know that Dawnie?" smiled Faith. Dawn looked down for a moment and then met Faith's eyes with her own.  
  
"Faith, you miss her, right?"  
  
"You have to ask?"  
  
"No. No, what I meant was...if you could say something to her, one last message...what would you say?" asked Dawn meekly.  
  
"Well, that's not going to happen. I don't live in the past, Dawn. I know it's too soon, but you shouldn't either. You'll just drive yourself crazy," said Faith, reaching out and giving both of Dawn's hands a squeeze. Dawn slowly and sadly nodded. Faith turned and looked over her shoulder.  
  
"Come on, let's go rescue Matthieu. Sounds like he's met the girls," said Faith.  
  
They walked into the living room and three heads turned in their direction, all obviously relieved at the interruption of the group's awkward silence.  
  
"I see you've met Matthieu," smiled Faith. "Hey, they must've given their approval. I mean, you haven't been turned into a newt or anything!"  
  
Willow and Tara smiled but Matthieu glanced at them nervously.  
  
"Well, some spells take longer to kick in than others," said Willow.  
  
Matthew managed to laugh nervously.  
  
"Dawn, we should get going. Better go get a jacket," said Tara.  
  
"Okay. Be right back," said Dawn, bounding up the stairs behind them.   
  
"Faith, can I...can I talk with you? Just for a m-m-minute?"  
  
"Sure," shrugged Faith, nodding towards the kitchen. Faith followed her into the kitchen and Tara nervously looked back towards the living room.  
  
"What's up?" asked Faith.  
  
"Um, I uh...I w-wanted..."  
  
"Tara, is this about the other morning? 'Cause I told you nothing was going on."  
  
"W-what? Oh! No, that's not...Faith, I know something's going on," said Tara, again glancing behind them.  
  
"Fine. Tell me what's going on," said Faith, crossing her arms.   
  
Tara looked down for a moment and swallowed, mustering the courage to betray the gang's secret, knowing she must. Faith lowered her hands to her hips and Tara, startled, jumped.  
  
"Tara, you...you're afraid of me!"  
  
Tara looked down again and pursed her lips. Too late came her reply, weak as it was.  
  
"No. No, I..."  
  
Tara looked at Faith and knew from her pained expression that she couldn't lie her way out of this. Not this time.  
  
"Faith..."  
  
"Don't. I can smell fear. But, but you know that. Tara, why? What did I..."  
  
"It's not that!" snapped Tara, so loudly that she startled both of them. "But since you brought it up, it's not what you did to her. It's what you could do. To...us."  
  
Faith opened her mouth to argue but no words came forth. Tara swallowed again and fought the urge to look away, almost daring Faith to be the one to lie now.  
  
"But I wouldn't," protested Faith. "I wouldn't. Do I want what you have? Yes! Just to have someone I can talk to, someone to hold me when...someone who will simply touch me. You don't get it. None of you do!"  
  
Tara winced, thrown by where this conversation had gone.  
  
"I don't want Willow. And you'll never believe me," accused Faith, her voice desperately sad. She turned and quickly walked away. It took Tara a heartbeat to realize that she was leaving.  
  
"No! Faith, wait! I'm afraid I'm going to lose her, but not to you! Faith!"  
  
Faith ignored her.   
  
"So...known Faith long?" asked Matthieu, trying to break the ice.  
  
"Long enough. She ever tell you she once held a knife to my throat?" asked Willow nonchalantly.  
  
Matthieu opened his mouth to make a joke but realized that Willow was serious. He found himself staring at her throat.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Um...yes what?" asked Matthieu cautiously.  
  
"That's her mark on my neck. Going on your first patrol with her?"  
  
"Um...I guess...I mean yes. Tonight," nodded Matthieu.  
  
"Want some advice?" smiled Willow.  
  
"Sure," agreed Matthieu with more than a little trepidation. Willow leaned in to him and whispered.  
  
"Don't stick your neck out for her," she winked.  
  
Matthieu grunted a nervous laugh, completely unsure of whether Willow was pulling his leg. Or not.   
  
"So, what's it feel like...to make love to a corpse?" asked Willow, her face cold even with a hint of a smile.  
  
Matthieu stared at her, speechless. And then Faith came bustling out past him, grabbing his arm.  
  
"Come on. We got a party to get to," barked Faith. Matthieu was pulled away, still staring back at Willow. Faith didn't slow down until she got outside on the porch and slammed the door behind them.  
  
"Hey," said Matthieu, getting her attention. She looked back at him but didn't speak. He couldn't tell if she was mad or upset. Or both.  
  
"You said these were your friends?"  
  
"Guess so," shrugged Faith, glancing back at the door. "Why?"  
  
Matthieu took a deep breath.  
  
"Nothing. I think the redhead was messing with my mind, is all," said Matthieu.  
  
"Wouldn't put it past her. Wouldn't put it past either of them. Come on, we gotta roll," said Faith, walking away towards his bike. Matthieu glanced back once at the door as Faith had done and then hurried to join her.  
  
Willow pulled the curtain aside and watched them leave. And with the taillight of Matthieu's bike still in sight, Xander pulled up in Giles' car.  
  
"Ready to go?" asked Dawn, suddenly standing behind her.  
  
Willow turned and faced Dawn, smiling. Tara came out of the kitchen and stood next to Dawn.  
  
"You two go wait in the car, I'll be right out. I need a few minutes to, uh, get some things together."  
  
"Okay," shrugged Dawn. She left but Tara stood there for a moment, staring at Willow.  
  
"What?" asked Willow.  
  
"I know I can't talk you out of this. But sometimes...just remember that what you find tonight might not be Buffy."  
  
Willow turned her head slightly but Tara spoke before she could ask a question.  
  
"These spirits, they know things, things that only you should know. But...but that doesn't mean it will be Buffy you're talking to," said Tara, exhaling so that her cheeks puffed out.  
  
"Tara?"  
  
"I know you want this. They will too. Don't trust them. That's, that's all I w-w-wanted to say," sighed Tara nervously. She looked down and realized that she had been rubbing her hands together. She stopped by tucking them under her arms.  
  
"Yeah, I need to do this. Tara, I have to know. So does Giles. Why can't you accept how much this hurts?"  
  
"Honey, there's some pain you just have to live with," lamented Tara.   
  
"Wait. You've done this before," said Willow, suddenly understanding. Tara looked down at the floor, her silence admitting the truth. Willow stepped over to her and waited until Tara looked up at her.  
  
"You tried to contact your mother, didn't you?" asked Willow softly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did you..."  
  
"I don't know. I'll never know. Just remember w-what I said," whispered Tara.  
  
Willow shook her head and hugged Tara but she just stood there, arms now by her side.  
  
"I'll be in the car," said Tara, pulling away. Willow took a deep breath and watched her go.   
  
*****  
  
"Something doesn't smell right," said Faith, putting her hands on her hips and slowly turning around. There wasn't so much as a rowboat moving about in the harbor and very few ships were even tied up to the docks. A very thin fog was rising from the surface of the water, precariously holding on as it dissipated into the cool night air. On the shore below a solitary old man sat holding a fishing pole, his lower jaw moving front to back as he worked his dentures. A brown bag with an open bottle was perched between his knees.   
  
"And might that smell be low tide?" offered Matthieu with a smile. Faith ignored him for a moment but then looked back over her shoulder at him. A slight swell in the harbor caused the rigging of a few moored boats to sound like barely stirring wind chimes.  
  
"That's it," nodded Faith.  
  
"Uh...okay. So, does this mean I'm the brains of this operation now? "Cause I think I can handle something a little more difficult than that!"  
  
"Huh? No! It's low tide. Dead low tide. That means that the big tankers and freighters can't dock for another six hours. The channel's not deep enough," explained Faith.  
  
"Which means no demon. But your Watcher has enough book smarts to do something as simple as check the tide chart in the paper," said Matthieu, somewhat confused.  
  
"Oh yeah. And besides him avoiding me the past two days he sure seemed to be in a hurry to send me on this wild goose chase. Something's up. I say we go find out what that something is," announced Faith.   
  
Before Matthieu could say anything he noticed two figures approaching them, their footsteps muffled by the wispy fog, soundless on the wooden pier as they emerged and took form. He looked back at Faith...and she smiled at him, not once turning to look behind her.  
  
"Company?" she asked, still grinning. Matthieu nodded and Faith opened up her arms to him.  
  
"How about a hug? We're going to play a little game," said Faith. Matthieu smiled and walked into her embrace.  
  
"And I'm the bait?" he whispered.  
  
"You learn fast," she nodded. "Just stay back when I start to play. I don't want to be worrying about you while I'm dancing, okay?"  
  
Before he could answer Faith pulled him to her and kissed him hard on the mouth. Matthieu kept his eyes open as the two figures came closer.  
  
"You don't have to watch them. I know where they are," whispered Faith, only rolling her mouth partly away from his lips.  
  
*****  
  
Most of the tower that Glory's minions had erected had been dismantled by the Public Works Department of Sunnydale. But like most unionized workers these people were paid by the hour and not the job. So without knowing what had happened here and with no incentive to care, the tower still rose three stories above the ground.   
  
Atop this structure they were paired off, huddled in a tight circle, Anya with Xander, Willow with Tara, Dawn with Giles. No one spoke and the only sound heard was a discomforting creak when someone shifted their weight.   
  
The two men aligned themselves north to south and a candle was lit between each of them. Willow lit the last candle, grateful that there was no breeze. Tara connected each candle with a line etched in yellow chalk. Where the lines connected in the center of the circle she traced an ever widening spiral. When she was done she glanced at Anya and nodded, tossing the chalk aside.  
  
"Oh! My turn!" said Anya. Using one of the candles she lit a splinter of wood and dropped it into a silver chalice. Soon the sickly sweet fragrance of frankincense wafted among them.  
  
"Whew! People actually liked this stuff?" commented Xander, wrinkling his nose and peering into the silver cup.  
  
"Shh!" warned Willow. Anya suppressed a laugh, afraid of Willow's wrath.   
  
"Giles, hand me the knife," said Willow. Giles did as he was told, passing it with the handle towards her. His hand shook unsteadily and Willow noticed for the first time that his face was slick with perspiration. Ignoring him, Willow grasped the blade and closed her eyes, touching the knife to her forehead and then to her mouth, her lips moving with unspoken words. When she opened her eyes she found Dawn already staring back at her.  
  
"Dawn, there's really no easy way to do this," winced Willow. Swiftly, without hesitation, Dawn leaned forward and grabbed the blade, her eyes never leaving Willow, unflinching as she squeezed the cold metal against her palm. Slowly opening her fingers, she offered her hand to Willow.  
  
"I'm not afraid," said Dawn confidently. Willow nodded, fighting the temptation to glance at Tara, and held Dawn's hand over the center of the circle. Letting a few bright red drops fall upon the ground, she then slid her thumb over Dawn's palm, rubbing the blood above and below her own lips, again mouthing words unheard by the others. Willow placed the knife by her knees and smiled at Dawn as she pressed a cloth into her palm to stop the bleeding.  
  
"Let's join hands. All I ask of you is to remember Buffy, each in your own way. Become lost in the remembering. And let no one break the circle, lest we fail in what we seek," spoke Willow. They all obeyed, Dawn between Giles and Anya, Tara between Willow and Xander.   
  
Willow tilted her head back, eyes closed, her grip tightening on those beside her. When she opened her eyes they were once again black, empty, the serpent-like crux of her waxing power. She looked at no one and none met her gaze. Her voice was crisp and clear, though no stronger than the smoke arising from the candles among them.  
  
"Helios, hear my plea. Once again I kneel before you in supplication. I offer myself in exchange for what I seek. Buffy Summers once walked among us...only you can find her now. Helios, the essence of a Slayer burns bright, even in the eternal darkness. Bring her to me now."  
  
Willow closed her eyes once again and threw her head back, arching her back towards the night sky.  
  
"A stranger's flesh offered, like a prostitute," whimpered Tara, her eyes filmed over with tears. Only Xander heard her whispered anguish.   
  
"Helios, I need to speak with Buffy Summers. Your light can find her. Heed me! Bring the dead Slayer to me!"  
  
*****  
  
Faith stepped back from Matthieu, her eyes never leaving his. The two vampires stopped only an arm's length behind her and looked at one another.  
  
"Watch. And learn," said Faith.  
  
Quickly stepping back she elbowed the first vamp in the ribs, hearing and feeling the satisfying crunch of bone. Flinging her right arm around as she spun, she caught the other vamp square in the jaw. Without missing a step she kneed him in the groin and just as swiftly drove her other knee into his face as his head descended in pain. Easily ducking under the first vamp's wild swing, she again landed two quick blows in succession to his ribs.  
  
"Come on, sugar, I like it when you moan," laughed Faith.  
  
The other vamp moved in on her and his nose met the back of her hand. She punched the one in front of her, staggering him but was grabbed from behind. Seeing a chance to finally inflict some pain in return, the vampire ran at her...and his chin met Faith's boot as she kicked upward. Even before the first vamp fell on his back Faith felt a sharp pain in her left shoulder; the one holding her had bit her.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" screamed Faith, her face changing, becoming one of the creatures she fought. "Who taught you to fight, your sister?"  
  
Faith slammed her heel down onto his instep and twisted as she felt his grip loosen, breaking free.   
  
Matthieu watched in stark fascination. The girl in front of him moved as water flowed, never reacting but always anticipating as if she could read her opponent's mind. Gone was the sheer brute force of her attack, though her yellow eyes still gleamed their anger. Ignoring the blood, the stomach churning sound of flesh being punished...this was a dance, just as Faith had hinted at. And seeing her smile made him understand that Faith was prolonging this for the shear pleasure of it.  
  
Suddenly it ended, the sound of each ash explosion a chilling wail, a scream rushing past him. Faith looked up at him, stake in one hand, skin glistening with sweat, her smile hauntingly cold. She closed her eyes and sniffed at the air, the stench of their passing filling her senses, a low moan of utter satisfaction escaping her, almost sexual in its intensity. The Slayer shook her head, dark hair swirling about her, and opened her eyes again.  
  
"Wow. That was...wow," smiled Matthieu.  
  
Faith beamed, slowly nodding in agreement. Then the smile disappeared from her face. She lowered her head and turned away from him.  
  
"Shit!" snapped Faith, hands on her hips now. She felt his hand on her shoulder but wouldn't look at him.  
  
"Matthieu, just give me a minute, okay?"  
  
"Faith, look at me."  
  
Faith's shoulders slumped but she didn't move.  
  
"Faith. Look at me," repeated Matthieu, his voice forceful.  
  
Faith slowly turned and looked at him.  
  
"Fine. See for yourself. This is what I am," said Faith, an edge to her voice.  
  
Matthieu shook his head and put his arms across her shoulders.  
  
"No. How you look is not who you are. Faith...I don't care," comforted Matthieu.  
  
"But I do." cringed Faith, faltering. "I do."  
  
Matthieu touched her cheek, softly, then ran his hand back through her hair.  
  
"No. Please don't, you wouldn't..."  
  
He silenced her with a kiss, firm enough to muffle her protests yet soft enough to get his message across. She responded almost immediately, dropping the stake, her hands sliding up and down his back.  
  
"Matthieu...we shouldn't...no, we shouldn't be doing this...right now," whispered Faith between kisses, needing to remind herself and to warn him.  
  
"Why not?," gasped Matthieu, still kissing her and meeting little resistance.  
  
"I'm...I'm too wound up," managed Faith, pulling back but resting her forehead against his. Against her will her eyes drifted to his throat, the warmth of his body making her head swim.  
  
"Faith, you don't have to hold back with me. You don't. Just...let go," smiled Matthieu.  
  
She rubbed her cold cheek against his and looked up at him.  
  
"Do you know what you're saying?" asked Faith, eyes open with hope and fear. Matthieu simply nodded. And Faith closed her eyes, holding on to him now for support.   
  
Faith could more than hear his heartbeat, she felt it. It washed over her, its throbbing became as her own, overwhelming, fueling her desire. She pressed her body tighter against him and Matthieu pulled her to him with one hand on her butt. He tilted his head, nibbling at her neck and exposing his own to her. Faith nuzzled closer, her tongue darting across his skin, his saltiness warming her mouth.  
  
Then Faith pushed away, hands on her knees, feral eyes staring at him in pain but unfocused, distant, as if he wasn't standing in front of her.  
  
"No. Matthieu...no, this isn't right...Matthieu, take me..."  
  
Faith rambled as if she was out of breath.  
  
"Okay, no and take me. Getting mixed signals here, Faith."  
  
His voice seemed to awaken Faith from her stupor.   
  
"No...I don't mean...it's Willow! I, I can hear her. She's calling me. Matthieu, I don't know how but I can hear her...and something is wrong. Very wrong. Take me to her," said Faith, standing unsteadily. Matthieu stared for a moment, then held out his hand to her.  
  
"Sorry. I might have a reputation but being a tease was never it. I owe ya one," said Faith. But she wasn't smiling. "Let's go."  
  
*****  
  
"Helios, illuminate her way, guide the one I seek," intoned Willow, her eyes closed, head bowed in supplication, her voice raspy and dry. "Helios, find..."  
  
"Willow," whispered Anya. Willow's eyes sprung open. Instinctively she looked at Dawn first...and Dawn's head was now slumped forward, rocking gently side to side.  
  
"That was rather quick," said Giles, expressing both concern and confusion.  
  
"Yes. Too quick," agreed Tara.  
  
Dawn slowly opened her eyes but didn't raise her head.  
  
"You mean, that's it? Houston we have ignition? I expected some big disturbance in the force, a Luke-I'm-your-father type moment," said Xander.  
  
"Dawn, are you okay?" asked Tara.  
  
Dawn lifted her head, wincing, and looked at each of them in turn. The stygian blackness of her eyes, devoid of any emotion, reflected nothing but emptiness back at them. For a moment Willow understood what the others saw in her own eyes now but she quickly let go of that connection.   
  
"It's not Dawn," smiled Willow.  
  
"Where am I?" said Dawn, as if announcing something and not questioning.  
  
"Buffy, is that you?" asked Willow.  
  
Dawn's head snapped in Willow's direction, her expression now angry, resentful...and just as suddenly apprehensive. Once again she slowly looked at each of them.  
  
"Buffy?" repeated Willow, startling Dawn. She narrowed her eyes at Willow.   
  
"Is that my name?" asked Dawn.  
  
Everyone had been respectfully quiet before. Now no one dared move. It wasn't Dawn's voice they heard now. It was clearly and painfully Buffy's. Only Willow smiled.  
  
"Yes. That's your name. Do, do you know who I am?" asked Willow, her smile fading into a hopeful frown.  
  
There was no wind but two of the candles flickered out.  
  
"Willow?" whispered Dawn.  
  
Willow gasped, smiling, but tears clouded the corners of her eyes. Another candle went dark. Only Tara seemed to notice.  
  
"Yes. Oh, yes," grinned Willow, sniffing.  
  
"Willow, she may not be able to stay long. You'd better hurry," warned Tara, still staring at the candle that just went out.  
  
"Oh! Right! Buffy, are you in pain?"  
  
Dawn seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she smiled and shook her head.  
  
"No. No, I'm not."  
  
Willow exhaled, not realizing that she had been holding her breath. Dawn raised her eyes and looked at Giles. Xander and Tara followed her gaze while the others stared at Dawn. Giles' face was white, his lower lip trembling.  
  
"Giles."  
  
Giles inhaled sharply.  
  
"Giles, whatever is troubling you, it wasn't your fault. It's over," said Dawn. She gave him the slightest smile of encouragement and squeezed his hand. Giles closed his eyes and began to cry.  
  
Tara watched in fascination as the candle next to Dawn actually grew brighter instead of dying out. She bit her lower lip...and began to wonder if this really was Buffy.  
  
*****  
  
Faith hopped of the back of the bike even before it came to a stop. She looked up at the tower as she walked towards it, not waiting for Matthieu. It didn't surprise her that Spike was standing there on the sidewalk, also looking up as he pulled on a cigarette. She stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder, not taking her eyes from the tower above them.  
  
"You know what's going on?" asked Faith.  
  
"I have an idea," nodded Spike.  
  
"Did...did you hear Willow too? Did she get inside your head?"  
  
Spike studied her, surprised even though he knew what she was talking about.  
  
"No. First time for you, though, right? I can tell. You look a little pale, even for one of us," commented Spike. Faith glanced at him as Matthieu joined them. Spike ignored him.  
  
"Yeah. First time. Wicked creepy, ya know?"  
  
"You get used to it. Bloody hell, who am I kidding? Creepy fits the bill. So what did Red's telegraph say?" asked Spike, dropping his butt and stepping on it.  
  
"They want to talk to her," answered Faith, glancing up but then looking at Spike.  
  
"Figured as much," frowned Spike.  
  
"You don't approve?" asked Faith.  
  
"No sweat off my...truth be told, I'm a little ticked that I wasn't invited."  
  
"Me too," agreed Faith, finally turning to face Matthieu. "Matthieu, this is..."  
  
"Spike," smiled Matthieu. Faith smiled in return.  
  
"Spike, meet Matthieu. He's with me," said Faith, her voice revealing just how with Matthieu was with her. Spike raised one eyebrow, impressed, and bowed his head..  
  
"He's..." began Matthieu.  
  
"Yeah. Don't worry, he's as harmless as a puppy dog," grinned Faith.  
  
"Enough small talk. What say we crash a party, Slayer? After all, they wanted to talk to the dead," smiled Spike.  
  
"Matthieu, I want you to stay here, okay? This shouldn't take long."  
  
"Sure," shrugged Matthieu. Faith stood up on her toes and kissed him, looking at him even as she walked away.  
  
"Marking your territory?" teased Spike.  
  
"Watch it, toothless wonder," warned Faith.  
  
END OF PART SIX 


	7. Seven

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART SEVEN   
  
"Willow, I can't stay long. My host isn't strong enough. She's tired and...well, it's hard to explain. Willow, I'm fine and, and I've accepted this. But I need you to do something for me, okay?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Your host? You mean your sister!" said Tara. Willow frowned at her.   
  
"Anything! Just tell me..."   
  
Willow stopped, her eyes drifting up behind Dawn. Everyone but Dawn looked in that direction. She froze, staring at Willow, her hands tightening their grip with both Giles and Anya.   
  
"Faith! What are you doing here?" shouted Willow.   
  
"You tell me. You're the one who called," answered Faith.   
  
"Don't mind me. I just tagged along," added Spike.   
  
"But, but I didn't...what are you talking about?" asked Willow, ignoring Spike.   
  
"Willow, I heard you. Here," said Faith, pointing at her temple. "You brought me here."   
  
"No, I didn't!" protested Willow.   
  
"Um, yes, you did," said Anya.   
  
"What?," shot Willow.   
  
"I believe you said... 'bring the dead Slayer to me' ...and, well, she is a dead Slayer," grimaced Anya.   
  
"Oh. Oh!," groaned Willow.   
  
"Be careful what you ask for," smiled Spike.   
  
Another of the candles flickered out.   
  
"Willow, make them go away. Now!" yelled Dawn, her body trembling. She tilted her head to one side but wouldn't look at Faith. Willow looked at her and realized that she was terrified.   
  
"Buffy, what's wrong? It's only Faith and Spike," said Willow.   
  
"Buffy? What the hell are you talking about?" demanded Faith tensely.   
  
"Faith! Don't you recognize her voice?" asked Xander, incredulous.   
  
"Yeah, I do. That's Dawn's voice," replied Faith, eyes narrowed suspiciously.   
  
"What?" spat Xander.   
  
"Uh, not that we're taking a vote, but I'm with Faith on this one. That's little bit's voice," agreed Spike.   
  
"Willow, please! Make them leave!" begged Dawn.   
  
Willow looked from Dawn to Faith, unsure of what to do.   
  
"Faith, maybe it would be best if you left," suggested Giles.   
  
"I don't think so," responded Faith, not looking at him but keeping her eyes on Willow.   
  
Dawn finally turned to face Faith and Faith's eyes popped open wide. It wasn't the blackness of her eyes that frightened her but the seething hatred and contempt that twisted Dawn's face now.   
  
"That's not Buffy," swallowed Faith, taking a step back. Dawn twisted her neck back to face Willow.   
  
"If they don't go, I will!" threatened Dawn.   
  
"Faith, go. Now," said Willow, eyes not leaving Dawn.   
  
"Willow, you can't..."   
  
"Go!" screamed Willow, now glaring at Faith. Faith looked at Spike and then glared back at Willow.   
  
"No," came her whispered reply.   
  
Another candle died out, its smoke coiling upwards and then fading away. Willow closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them with a smile.   
  
"Willow, no!" shouted Tara.   
  
"Leave!" commanded Willow. And Faith was flung off the platform. Spike twisted around to watch her plummet towards the ground. She landed square on the top of a car parked below, the glass of each window exploding outwards like water. Faith lay there, not moving. Spike looked back at Willow. She was now staring at him.   
  
"Just leaving!" he announced, running for the stairs and not looking back.   
  
"Faith!" yelled Matthieu.   
  
Faith opened her eyes, blinking several times and wincing in pain.   
  
"It's okay, Matty. I'm...still dead," laughed Faith, immediately regretting it because of the pain it caused. "Help me up."   
  
Matthieu eased an arm under her shoulders and gently helped her sit up. Faith hid her face in his shoulder briefly, then glanced up at the tower.   
  
"Faith, are you...are you okay?" asked Spike, suddenly standing next to them. Faith nodded.   
  
"Yeah. Thanks for asking."   
  
Faith slid off the roof of the car and stood uneasily on her feet, held up by Matthieu.   
  
"What happened?" he asked.   
  
"I was asked to leave. But I don't like being told what to do," said Faith, pushing his arms away and rotating her neck several times.   
  
"Why would Buffy be afraid of us?" said Spike out loud, looking up at the tower.   
  
"She wouldn't be. That wasn't her," said Faith.   
  
"I'm not so sure," answered Spike.   
  
"Hey, she was mad at me at times and maybe even hated me, but she never once was afraid of me. Not Buffy. Not because of me."   
  
"So it was a seance," said Matthieu.   
  
"Well they weren't playing Twister," snapped Spike.   
  
"Dawn was talking," explained Faith, ignoring Spike. "They thought it was Buffy's voice but Spike and I heard only Dawn's voice. It doesn't make sense."   
  
"Unless...," began Spike.   
  
"Unless you two have something in common that Buf...that she didn't like. Now what could that be?" smiled Matthieu.   
  
"Well, she was afraid of both of us, so it's not a Slayer thing," said Faith.   
  
"And why would someone who's dead be afraid of...well, someone who's dead?" shrugged Matthieu.   
  
"Maybe it has something to do with what we like to dine on," offered Spike.   
  
"Or maybe because we're dead it couldn't fool us," added Faith.   
  
"So then there's no chance it could've been Buffy?" asked Matthieu, looking at both of them in turn. Faith looked at Spike and shook her head.   
  
"No. My gut tells me no," said Faith. Spike looked down, unconvinced.   
  
"Spike, I know you want to believe it's her, but don't listen to your heart. Use your head," said Faith.   
  
Spike stared at Faith but wouldn't answer.   
  
"But why didn't they want you there?" asked Matthieu. "Aren't they your friends?"   
  
Spike looked at Faith, Faith looked at Spike. And then they both looked down at the ground.   
  
*****   
  
There was only one candle lit now. No one spoke but instead they all glanced from Willow to Dawn and back. Dawn was still visibly shaking and now sweat beaded upon her forehead, her blouse clung wet to her back.   
  
"Willow, I can't stay. I'm, I'm tired and...I can't stay. My...sister," said Dawn, challenging Tara with a glare, "is exhausted. Dawn won't remember any of this and, and that's not fair to her. Tomorrow night...in Dawn's room...be there. I'll...well, you'll see. And Dawn will be able to talk to me there. You'll see."   
  
"Is there anything I have to do?" whispered Willow. "To contact you, I mean."   
  
"No. I'm here now. You'll see. I need your help, but...tomorrow. Thank you, Willow. I missed you," smiled Dawn.   
  
A single tear ran down Willow's cheek.   
  
"Don't go. Please," begged Willow, her voice less than a whisper.   
  
"I have to," answered Dawn, shaking her head. She turned and simply smiled at Giles. Nothing more had to be said. He smiled back, his face tormented, tight with sorrow.   
  
"Buffy, what's your middle name?" asked Tara. Even though her voice was soft everyone looked at her, shocked that she could ask such a question. And since they were looking at her and not Dawn, only Tara noticed the momentary apprehension so clear on Dawn's face.   
  
The last candle went out and Dawn's head fell forward. Tara looked at Willow and saw very plainly how angry she was.   
  
"You can break the circle now," announced Willow, pulling her hand free from Tara with a little more force than was necessary. The others followed and stretched, easing sore muscles in their backs and necks. Dawn awoke like someone had splashed water on her face and looked around her, confused and afraid.   
  
"What happened?" she asked anxiously.   
  
"Dawn, do you feel okay?" asked Tara.   
  
"I guess," nodded Dawn. "But I'm really tired. Why's everyone staring at me?"   
  
"It's nothing. Come on, let's go home. I'll tell you all about it," sighed Willow, needing to lean on Giles to stand up and ignoring Tara's hand as she did.   
  
Tara pouted and looked back at Dawn. The whites of her eyes were now completely red.   
  
*****   
  
She watched them from her hiding place across the street. Xander was carrying Dawn in his arms and Willow leaned heavily on Giles, finding it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. No one spoke and no one looked at the smashed car by the curb. No one except Tara who paused and then looked back up at the tower. The others walked across the street towards her but Tara didn't seem to be in a hurry to catch up.   
  
Pat gripped the stake in her hand tighter, her knuckles turning white and the back of her hand quivering with the effort. The wood snapped and she flung the now useless weapon to the ground. Taking a deep breath, Pat turned and slipped away unseen.   
  
*****   
  
Spike slammed shut the door of his crypt and stood there, hands on hips, trying to control the rage that had been building all the way back here. He turned and kicked the door. Hard. And immediately regretted it.   
  
"Bloody hell! You'd think that door had a soul!" yelled Spike, jumping up and down while holding his foot in both hands. He limped over to a candle and pulled a lighter out of his duster but froze before even thumbing the flint to light it.   
  
"Who's here?" demanded Spike, peering into the darkness around him, seeking a shadow that didn't belong.   
  
"You don't know?" came an answer from behind him. Spike slipped the lighter back into his coat and slowly turned. The shadow moved slowly towards him, taking form.   
  
"I think you just hurt my feelings, Spike. You telling me you don't get that deep down tingle when we're both in the same room anymore?"   
  
Spike swallowed, his eyes opening just a little bit wider as she approached.   
  
"And I may only be sixteen, but I know that tingle means something a little more to you, doesn't it? Or do you get off only on certain Slayers?"   
  
Pat moved in front of him, head tilted seductively to one side, a smile at each corner of her mouth. Spike involuntarily glanced down, taking in the young girl's body, noting how her legs pressed against the skirt she wore.   
  
"Well, if it isn't the Slayer wanna be," smiled Spike, though not as confidently as he intended. "What brings you to our humble burg?"   
  
"Buffy," replied Pat. Spike blinked. He hadn't expected that reply.   
  
Pat slowly walked around him in a circle, seemingly unimpaired by the darkness. Spike stared straight ahead, motionless. She stopped in front of him, looking up with her arms crossed.   
  
"So...what did she have to say tonight?" asked Pat.   
  
"Who?"   
  
"Buffy. I know what they were doing."   
  
"So go ask them. I wasn't invited to the tea party," spat Spike.   
  
Pat backhanded him across his face, hard. Spike didn't flinch and ignored the blood at the corner of his mouth. Pat smiled.   
  
"You liked that...didn't you?" she taunted. Spike only stared at her.   
  
"Either was I. And I wouldn't have been even if they knew I was here. Which they don't. You and I, Spike, we have two things in common now," sighed Pat.   
  
"And what would that be?"   
  
"Well, we're both on the outs with the Scooby gang. Me, because I wasn't here where I was needed, when I should have been. And you...because you didn't keep a promise."   
  
Spike glared at her, knowing instantly what she meant, but was calmed by what he saw in her eyes. It wasn't contempt he found there, but sympathy.   
  
"Glory was already dead. If you had protected Dawn, like you had promised..."   
  
"You think I didn't try!" shouted Spike, his hands clenching into fists. It was Pat who looked away first.   
  
"And the other thing we have in common?" asked Spike through clenched teeth.   
  
"We both want to make up for failing. That's why I'm here," said Pat calmly.   
  
"How?" asked Spike, suddenly interested.   
  
"The Council doesn't trust Faith, they never will. They want me here. But Sunnydale already has a Slayer. And besides, Faith loves Dawn like a sister. And to me, that's even more important. She needs her now. They need each other."   
  
"So why tell me?" asked Spike.   
  
"Because I think you're still trying to fulfill your promise. And I think Dawn trusts you. I need your help. And so does Giles," added Pat. Spike smiled, suddenly understanding.   
  
"Giles is Faith's connection to the gang. Get rid of Giles..."   
  
"I see I've made my point," interrupted Pat. "So, you interested in helping me?"   
  
"I guess I am," nodded Spike. Pat smiled.   
  
"And here I thought I'd have to smack you around some. Oh well. We can have that fun another time," teased Pat. Spike frowned at her but Pat only seemed to be amused by his reaction.   
  
"Tell me about Giles. How's he holding up?" asked Pat, now serious.   
  
*****   
  
Faith sat on the bike long after Matthieu had turned off the ignition and just stared at the house.   
  
"Sure you don't want me to wait?" asked Matthieu over his shoulder.   
  
"No. Getting kinda late anyway," said Faith, glancing towards the eastern horizon. She slid off the back of the bike and pulled off her helmet, wedging it under her arm. He looked at her with an unapproving frown.   
  
"It'll be cool. Willow just freaked. Hell, if I know her she'll feel so guilty she'll wait on me hand and foot all week," smiled Faith.   
  
"Or maybe let you feed off her again," countered Matthieu.   
  
"Uh...wow. Way to spring something on a girl when she ain't got the time to explain," said Faith, frowning with one side of her mouth.   
  
"Sorry, that was low. What say you 'splain it over a beer tonight?" asked Matthieu.   
  
"Sounds great."   
  
"How ya feelin'?" asked Matthieu.   
  
"Little sore. I'll be fine. Wasn't the first time I fell like that. Why can't I be more catlike and fall on my feet?"   
  
"Faith, you were amazing tonight. Like a squirrel jacked on coffee," smiled Matthieu. Faith looked up, moving her eyes side to side as she considered that.   
  
"Guess I'll take that as a compliment. And Matty, about what happened tonight...I mean what almost happened. That can't...I was a little out of control," winced Faith.   
  
"And your point is?"   
  
"Hey, I'm serious here. I get caught up in the moment like that and you could get hurt, big time," said Faith sternly.   
  
"Okay, but tell me this; how did you feel? Not what did you think, past tense, Monday morning quarterbacking here...how did you feel?"   
  
Faith looked down for a moment and then smiled.   
  
"It was intense," she whispered.   
  
"Isn't that what it's all about? Don't take this the wrong way, but...didn't it make you feel alive?" asked Matthieu confidently.   
  
"It's not always that simple. There's...consequences. No free rides. Everything has a price," shrugged Faith. "I know."   
  
"You didn't answer my question."   
  
Faith again glanced towards the sky.   
  
"Is that why you're with me? Pushing the envelope make you feel alive?" asked Faith.   
  
"That's only a small part, a very small part. Do you excite me? Hell, yes! Who knows why you feel the way you do about someone?" sighed Matthieu. And Faith smiled.   
  
"And how do you feel about me?" she asked.   
  
"Ah, you're right, it's getting late. Best you get inside,' grinned Matthieu.   
  
"Who's avoiding the question now?" complained Faith.   
  
"Fine. I'll answer it this way. You make me happy. And you or I could be dead this time tomorrow. So why not experience life to its fullest? Faith, all I'm saying is don't hold back. Live. You offered yourself to me...I want to do the same for you. I, I just want to make you happy."   
  
Faith met his gaze and held it. The only sound just then was that of a cricket chirping the night away and somehow this only intensified the quiet surrounding them. She leaned forward and kissed him, pulled away with only a tease of a smile and then touched his warm cheek with her cold hand.   
  
"Get some sleep," whispered Faith, adding a wink as she turned and walked away.   
  
"Faith, does Spike have a soul?"   
  
Faith stopped and didn't turn around for a moment. Then she answered him over her shoulder.   
  
"No, but he's beginning to make me wonder. Goodnight already!"   
  
Matthieu laughed and kicked the engine over. She could barely hear the bike by the time she reached the front door. Sliding her key into the lock, she turned it and pushed the door open...and her eyes opened in shock as she realized that she couldn't enter. Faith pushed out against nothing but it was as if there was an invisible wall in front of her.   
  
"Oh shit. Dawn! Hey, anybody awake in there? Hey!" yelled Faith, looking behind her as the sky began to pale. She pushed the doorbell but then remembered that it didn't work.   
  
"Okay, this is so not funny! You made your point, Tara, now let me in! Hey!" screamed Faith.   
  
Finally a pair of pajama'd legs came down the stairs. Faith winced when she saw that it was Tara.   
  
"Faith, what are you..."   
  
"Tara, jokes over, very funny. Now go get Dawn. Please?"   
  
"Wha...why? I don't..."   
  
"Tara, don't play dumb, I can't get in!"   
  
"What!? But I didn't...oh my...Faith, the sun!"   
  
"No shit!"   
  
"Maybe I can...Faith, please come in! You, you're welcome here!" cried Tara. Faith reached out and her shoulders drooped as she glared at Tara.   
  
"I'll get Dawn," said Tara, turning towards the stairs. Then she looked back at Faith. "Don't go anywhere!"   
  
"Will you hurry up!? And where the hell am I going to go!?" barked Faith.   
  
Tara grimaced and ran up the stairs, pausing in front of the hall closet before she reached Dawn's room. She whipped the door open and pulled out a blanket.   
  
"Dawn! Wake up! Now!"   
  
Tara ran back down the stairs, almost tripping over the blanket. She reached the doorway but Faith was gone. Her helmet was on the porch, tilted on its side.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
Tara knelt down but there was no ash to be seen. It was getting very bright out now. She turned when she heard Dawn descending the stairs. She had slept in the clothes she wore last night but now had also slipped on a pair of sunglasses.   
  
"Tara, what's going on?"   
  
"It's Faith. She couldn't get in!"   
  
"You mean she didn't have her key?" asked Dawn, confused.   
  
"No. I mean she couldn't come in. Dawn, it wasn't me. I didn't..."   
  
Tara stopped, her eyes looking up at the door to her bedroom. It still took another moment for Dawn to catch on.   
  
"Faith!" yelled Dawn, now running outside. She looked left and right and, groaning, up at the sky. The sun had cleared the horizon. She turned back to look at Tara, her face a mixture of pain and fear.   
  
"Tara, where could she have gone?" asked Dawn, holding her hands out.   
  
"Well, I don't think she poofed," grimaced Tara.   
  
Dawn looked around again and then ran towards the back of the house.   
  
"Faith! Faith, where are you?" called Dawn. Tara ran after her and caught up with her in the back yard.   
  
"Tara, why would Willow..."   
  
"I don't know. Dawn, it's okay, I'm sure Faith made it...somewhere. Somewhere safe," said Tara. But Dawn wasn't looking at her. Tara turned to see what Dawn was looking at and saw that some side boards along the back steps were broken...as if they had been kicked inward. They both looked at one another and then ran to the porch and peered in.   
  
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust and for a second Tara thought a cat was staring back at them from under the porch. Then she realized the yellow feral eyes were Faith's own. Faith turned her face away from them, huddled far in the corner by the house.   
  
"Faith! Oh, thank God we found you! Faith, I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry," said Dawn. Faith didn't answer and didn't turn to face them.   
  
"Tara, go get a blanket...no, get the comforter off my bed, it's thicker. We need to get her inside."   
  
"No! Just...leave me alone," yelled Faith. But she didn't sound angry. And it was more than being upset by this betrayal. Very simply, Faith's tone resonated fear. Dawn sat up and looked at Tara, shocked.   
  
"Dawn, she only...she only looks like that," whispered Tara, "when she's very angry or, or hurt. M-maybe we should let her, well, calm down first."   
  
"No. Go get the comforter. Now," ordered Dawn. Tara nodded and left. With a sigh Dawn stuck her head back under the porch.   
  
"Dawn, just go. Please," asked Faith. Dawn winced, realizing that Faith was crying.   
  
"No. Faith, you are welcome into my home. I invite you in. And I'm not going to have out here like this. No freakin' way."   
  
Faith didn't answer but Dawn could see that her body still trembled.   
  
"Are you telling me that you're afraid to try to get out of there? Spike runs around with a blanket out here all the time," sighed Dawn. Faith turned her head, her face now in human form, and Dawn smiled. Tara came out the back door, comforter in hand.   
  
"Leave me alone," begged Faith, her eyes red, her face smudged with dirt. Dawn glared back at her.   
  
"If you don't get your wuss ass out here right now I'm going to tell Spike what a fraidy cat you were and you'll never hear the end of it. So move!" shouted Dawn, holding her hand out for Tara to give her the comforter.   
  
Faith pouted and reluctantly dragged herself forward on her elbows.   
  
"Tara, take an end. Spread this out."   
  
Tara nodded and did as she was told.   
  
"Come on, Faith. It's okay. We'll cover you up," encouraged Dawn. Faith emerged and they wrapped the comforter tightly around her and helped her to her feet. Dawn held her and guided her towards the house as Tara opened the door.   
  
Faith sat down in a corner of the kitchen and pulled her head free but kept the blanket wrapped around her as if she was cold. Tara quickly made sure the shutters above the sink were closed tight as Dawn knelt down next to Faith. But Faith wouldn't look at her. Instead she just stared at the floor in front of her. Biting her lower lip, Dawn leaned forward and hugged her but got no response from Faith.   
  
"I'm so sorry," whispered Dawn.   
  
Faith slowly raised her eyes and glared at Tara.   
  
"Faith, it wasn't me, I swear," winced Tara. Faith looked back down at the floor but then looked at Dawn as she sat down next to her.   
  
"What's with the glasses?" asked Faith.   
  
Dawn hesitated but then briefly lowered them just enough for her to see that her eyes were completely red. Once again Faith glared at Tara, this time even more menacingly.   
  
"Tara thinks they'll clear up in a day or two," shrugged Dawn. "It doesn't hurt."   
  
"What's going on?" demanded Faith coldly.   
  
"It's only a side effect of the...the possession," frowned Tara.   
  
"Did any of you even for a second consider Dawn in all this?"   
  
"Faith, that's not fair. I agreed to the seance," defended Dawn.   
  
"And we didn't know...we weren't sure how Buffy would try to contact us," sighed Tara. "Not that it matters but I tried to talk them out of it."   
  
Faith took one arm out of the blanket and ran her fingers along Dawn's cheek, brushing back her hair.   
  
"You okay?" asked Faith.   
  
"Yeah. Just a little tired. And, and a little disappointed, I guess. See, I don't remember anything. Nothing! And...it's not fair, you know? I mean...she's my sister," said Dawn, her voicing cracking.   
  
"Dawnie, it wasn't her," said Faith.   
  
"What? But, but they said...it was her voice. They heard Buffy's voice!"   
  
"I didn't. I only heard your voice. Now why is that? And why was...Buffy...so afraid of me?" asked Faith. "No, Dawn, I'm sorry, but I don't believe it was her. Do you, Tara?"   
  
Tara took a deep breath.   
  
"I don't know. I just don't know," replied Tara.   
  
"Faith, I don't get it. Tara's been living here for a while. She invited you in. Why didn't it work?" asked Dawn. Faith looked up at Tara and smiled.   
  
"Probably because she isn't comfortable here yet, feels...awkward, sleeping in your mom's bed," said Faith, not taking her eyes off of Tara.   
  
"Tara, is that true? You don't consider this your home?" asked Dawn, surprised.   
  
"I, I hadn't thought about it. But...no, maybe I don't. Willow and I, we, we can't replace Joyce. No one can, Dawn," sighed Tara, looking away.   
  
"I'm not asking you to. And you don't have to. I don't know what I would've done without you and Willow here. Tara, this is your home. Okay?" smiled Dawn.   
  
Tara nodded, her face turning pink. Just then Willow stumbled into the doorway, leaning on the door frame for support.   
  
"Morning," greeted Willow. "What's going on?"   
  
Faith slowly stood up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Tara moved to stand next to Willow but Faith ignored her, keeping her eyes on Willow. Even Dawn edged her way over to get between Willow and Faith.   
  
"You trying to kill me? Talk fast, witch, 'cause I'm wicked pissed right now," taunted Faith.   
  
"Faith, I'm sorry about last night. I overreacted. Hell, I freaked. But Buffy would've left and, and...Faith, I'm sorry. It just...happened. Are you okay?" winced Willow.   
  
"And what about this morning? Faith nearly died!" snapped Dawn, turning to face Willow. Willow's eyes opened wide and she covered her mouth with her hand.   
  
"The invite! Oh, goddess! I forgot!"   
  
"So you did do it. When we were waiting in the car," said Tara, shaking her head from side to side.   
  
"Yes," admitted Willow. "Giles told me to."   
  
"Giles? Giles told you to do that?" exclaimed Faith. Willow nodded.   
  
"In case we had to come back here last night. There wouldn't be time to...oh, Faith, I am sorry! I forgot. I didn't mean to...oh, shit," sighed Willow.   
  
"But...why? And why did you think I wouldn't want to be with you last night?" asked Faith, not even trying to hide the ache that she felt.   
  
"The ritual involved Helios, the sun god. Giles felt that, you being a, a..."   
  
"Vampire," said Faith.   
  
"Yeah. That little detail might've interfered or even prevented contact, so..."   
  
Willow could only shrug. She cautiously took a step forward, somewhat unsteady on her feet, and opened her arms to Faith. Faith looked down, grinding her teeth.   
  
"Faith, I'm sorry," whispered Willow.   
  
Faith looked up and caught the mocking laughter in Willow's eyes. Reaching for a knife by the side of the sink, she grasped it and spun, pushing Dawn out of the way. Her hand came up, lifting Willow off her feet as the blade ripped upwards. She felt the metal grate against bone even before the sticky warmth of Willow's blood gushed over her fist. Faith's nostrils flared as the tang of her blood, the scent of her fear washed over her.   
  
Willow tried to scream but spit up blood instead. Her eyes dilated from fear to anger as the darkness spread across the whites like flowing watercolor. From somewhere far off Faith could hear Tara shrieking. Ignoring her, Faith twisted the knife harder, tearing flesh. Willow's head slumped forward and she fell into Faith's arms.   
  
Faith looked up. Willow was holding her in her arms, her lips were moving...but Faith couldn't hear her. She shook her head to clear her vision.   
  
"Faith! Faith, what happened? Are, are you okay?" asked Willow with sincere concern.   
  
Faith looked around. She was in the kitchen. Tara was staring at her and Dawn...Dawn was frightened. She looked back at Willow and Willow let go of her, taking a step back with her eyes wide open. And Faith understood why. For a moment the witch had seen what Faith was feeling, had touched a part of her that she had always hid, even from herself. Willow had seen Faith afraid.   
  
"Faith..." whispered Willow, aghast.   
  
"Hey, I'm okay," said Faith, quickly looking away from Willow. "Must've...I, I just got a little light headed. That's all."   
  
Faith stepped back and supported herself by leaning against the counter. She forced an unconvincing smile on Dawn but didn't fool her. Glancing at the sink she saw the knife there and her hands gripped the counter tighter as she suddenly did feel light headed. Looking up, she saw Tara had followed her gaze and was staring at the knife. And then Tara looked at her, looked into her...and Faith knew that Tara understood what had happened. Tara mercifully looked away.   
  
"Faith, maybe you need to eat? Think that would help?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Um, I don't know...I, uh...sure. I guess it couldn't hurt," nodded Faith, still avoiding Willow's eyes. Dawn opened the refrigerator and pulled out a white plastic cup, whipping off the lid and tossing it aside. She took an experienced step towards the microwave but Faith stopped her with her hand.   
  
"No, that's okay, I'll just..."   
  
Faith attempted to smile again and got a nod from Dawn as she handed her the cup. Hesitating, Faith glanced up at Willow and was met with genuine concern and sympathy. She closed her eyes and gulped down half the cup.   
  
"I think I'd better go lay down. Not that this is over," added Faith, looking at each girl in turn. She set the cup down on the counter and stared at the floor.   
  
"Did...did she say anything?" whispered Faith.   
  
"Um, no. Not much. She...recognized us," said Tara. "We'll know more tonight."   
  
"Tonight?" repeated Faith, looking up at Tara. She caught the warning glare from Willow and waited for her to look back.   
  
"Yeah," nodded Willow. "Buffy...she said she'd meet us in Dawn's room."   
  
Faith turned to look at Dawn.   
  
"She said...she said she was already here. It won't be the same as last night," said Tara.   
  
"Already here?" repeated Faith, wrinkling her eyebrows at Tara. Tara just shrugged. Willow walked over and put one hand on Faith's shoulder, the other on Dawn's arm.   
  
"I won't let anything happen to her. I promise," said Willow. Faith bit her lower lip, knowing Willow meant what she said.   
  
"I know. But I'm in. I'm going to be there," warned Faith. Willow began to object, then simply nodded her agreement.   
  
"I'd better go," said Faith.   
  
"I'll come with. You, you m-might feel dizzy again. On the stairs," said Tara.   
  
"No, I can..."   
  
Faith stopped, seeing the look on Tara's face. Her eyes all but begged her.   
  
"Thanks," nodded Faith. She headed upstairs without waiting for Tara. Willow and Dawn exchanged surprised expressions as Tara moved to catch up with her.   
  
On the stairs Faith let Tara take her elbow even though she didn't need, or want, her help. Neither of them spoke or looked at one another until they were in front of Faith's room. The anticipated awkward silence had barely formed when Tara spoke.   
  
"How do you f-feel?"   
  
"Okay, I guess. Thanks for your help," said Faith, trying to quickly dismiss Tara.   
  
"It happened again, didn't? You...you had one of your visions," said Tara.   
  
"Was it that obvious?" frowned Faith.   
  
"No. And I don't think Dawn has any idea that you have these," reassured Tara.   
  
"Had these. Past tense. It's been a long since...and anyway, Dawn does know. I told her. It helped explain why I had to stay away. Well, a little, I hope," said Faith.   
  
Tara swallowed, uncomfortable talking about this but needing to push on.   
  
"The knife. It was the knife...right?" asked Tara timidly. Faith nodded and looked back towards the stairs behind them.   
  
"Yeah. And, and Willow. Hey, look, this doesn't mean anything. I'm tired, a lot of...stuff went down tonight. Tara, you don't have to worry. I'm okay," smiled Faith.   
  
"But I do. Worry. And know this...I will protect her. With my life if it comes to that," glared Tara, her face hard, cold and so unlike her that it startled Faith.   
  
"Tara, if I have these visions again, you won't have to uninvite me. I'll leave. It's that's simple. Good night," snapped Faith, pushing past Tara and closing her door.   
  
Tara stood there for a moment, took a deep breath to calm the chill that was trying to overcome her. Holding her arms, rubbing them, she turned and walked away, hesitating only when she heard Faith click the lock shut on the door behind her.   
  
Faith lay down on her bed and pulled her pillow to her, hugging it tightly, her eyes wide open. She found herself staring at the photo of Buffy by the side of the bed.   
  
END OF PART SEVEN


	8. Eight

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART EIGHT   
  
"Spike! What are...how did you get here? The sun's still out," said Xander.   
  
"Bugger the sun, when the need arises I have my ways," responded Spike.   
  
"Oh, so that isn't your new cologne but the faint hint of sewer that I smell?" questioned Xander.   
  
Xander stood in his doorway, not moving. Anya appeared and smiled at Spike over his shoulder.   
  
"Well?" said Spike.   
  
"Well what?"   
  
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" asked Spike, rolling his eyes.   
  
"No," answered both Xander and Anya at the same time.   
  
"Not that we fear you," added Anya.   
  
"We just find you annoying. And much less annoying if you can't come in," said Xander.   
  
"Actually, I just didn't want him to get anything on the carpet," said Anya, wrinkling her nose and looking down at his shoes.   
  
"Fine. I'll just say what I have to say and be on my way then," glared Spike.   
  
They both stared at him and waited patiently. Spike scowled in return.   
  
"It's time the Scoobies start worrying about Giles."   
  
"Start? Spike, what are you talking about? Sure, Buffy's death hit him hard but he's dealing. Probably better than any of us," said Xander. Anya nodded in agreement.   
  
"Oh really? Then why did he try to dig up her grave the other night?"   
  
Xander stared at him, the color fading from his face.   
  
"What?" whispered Xander.   
  
"The man's holding on by a thread, people. The Council wants him out. Wake up and smell the Watcher!"   
  
"Okay, disturbing visual aside...why do you care?" asked Xander.   
  
"Why do I...bloody hell! You think I don't care?" snapped Spike.   
  
"About Giles? No. You cared about Buffy. That much we got. Where's all this sudden insight coming from anyhow?" asked Xander.   
  
"Pat's back in town. Says the Council boys are turning up the heat, just waiting for him to boil over. They need an excuse, on paper anyway, to remove him."   
  
"Remove him why? So that she can waltz in here and take over? And what's Faith going to do?" asked Anya.   
  
"That's the whole point, they don't trust Faith. But Pat wants nothing to do with it. She likes Faith and knows that Sunnydale is her town," said Spike.   
  
"Right. That's why she's back here, because she doesn't want to be here. How convenient for her, then, if Giles quits or is fired. Our little Slayer will be in the right place at the wrong time to take over," glared Xander.   
  
"Well, think about it. To a Slayer, Sunnydale must be like Disneyland. It has the best rides. Bet she's jealous of Faith having all the fun," nodded Anya knowingly.   
  
"Fun! You think Faith's having fun?" asked Spike, astonished.   
  
"And why did I say waltz? No one waltzes anymore," sighed Anya distractedly. "Never did like them anyway. All one, two, three, one, two, three. Boring!"   
  
Xander raised one eyebrow at Anya.   
  
"Thanks for the message, Spike. We'll add a grain of salt or two and keep it in mind," smiled Xander sarcastically. He shut the door in Spike's face.   
  
"Fine! Be that way! Can't say as I didn't try to warn you!" shouted Spike. He threw his arms up in the air and stormed off.   
  
"You believe him?" asked Anya.   
  
"No. Giles has been through a lot. He'll be fine. We all will...eventually," said Xander, giving Anya a hug.   
  
"So Pat's back," commented Anya. "Think she wants the job here?"   
  
"Don't know, don't care," sighed Xander. "She didn't want it before...when it would've mattered if she was here."   
  
"Maybe it's just fate or chance that she's here. Maybe she really doesn't want to take over for Faith."   
  
"Huh?" muttered Xander.   
  
"Well, there's something to be said about being in the right place at the wrong time. I mean, think about it. If the Beach Boys had been born in, oh, say Jamaica instead of southern California, we'd all be singing 'hep me, Rhonda, hep me" instead of help me," grinned Anya. Xander leaned back and looked at her.   
  
"Your logic scares me at times. But that's why I love you," smiled Xander.   
  
"Aw. Thanks. I think," answered Anya.   
  
*****   
  
Hearing a knock at the front door, Dawn pushed her sketch pad aside and got up from the kitchen table, reaching for her sunglasses as she did. She walked over and opened the door.   
  
"Hey," offered Pat, immediately, and obviously, uncomfortable. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.   
  
"Pat?" said Dawn, as if she didn't know who this person was and had tried to match a name to an unfamiliar face. She glanced over her shoulder and then came outside, shutting the door behind her.   
  
"Pat," repeated Dawn, this time more confidently. "Well, this is..."   
  
"Awkward," finished Pat, seeing Dawn trying to find the right word.   
  
"Um, do you want Faith? 'Cause she's still sleeping, it being daylight and all," said Dawn, trying to smile.   
  
"No. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Is Giles here?"   
  
"Not yet. Do you want to come in and wait for him?" asked Dawn.   
  
Pat was surprised at the offer and smiled appreciatively.   
  
"No. But thanks. I'll just say what I needed to say and leave. See, I know Giles has been, well, not himself lately. And that's understandable, you know? What with Buffy..."   
  
Pat glanced at Dawn but her expression didn't change. At all. And that threw Pat for a moment.   
  
"Okay, long story short. The Council wants Giles to retire but he wants to stay. Because of Faith. I don't have to tell you that the Council doesn't take no for an answer. So..."   
  
Again Pat looked at Dawn. She was listening, of course, but it seemed as if she was bored.   
  
"What I'm trying to say is that they might do things to make him quit. Like upset him, or, or push him so that the pressure of the job gets to him. Thing is, I don't know what they'll do. But I know what they're capable of doing. You need to tell him."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"Why do they want him out?" asked Dawn matter of factly.   
  
"Oh. You mean, besides the fact that he lost his Slayer? They don't trust Faith."   
  
"Who does?" frowned Dawn.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Nothing," said Dawn, shaking her head. "So they want you here."   
  
"Yeah. But it's not what I want. It's not right."   
  
"So why not tell Giles yourself?" asked Dawn.   
  
Pat hesitated, her eyebrows squeezing together.   
  
"Just thought he'd listen to you. You're her sister. You, more than anyone else, you can reach him. And, well...I think I've let him down. I shoulda been there, you know? Dawn, I'm sorry. It can't mean much to you, but...I'm so sorry," sighed Pat, looking down.   
  
"Thanks. It's, it's a little easier now. And I'll tell Giles. Don't know if it'll help. He hasn't been himself lately, ya know?" shrugged Dawn. Pat nodded but didn't look up.   
  
"Oh, hey, um, Faith wants to meet you later tonight. About an hour past sunset."   
  
"Where?"   
  
"Uh...that place you met the other night. You know," hinted Dawn, encouraging Pat to answer for her.   
  
"Oh. Down by the lake."   
  
"Yeah. The lake. That's it," nodded Dawn. "I'll tell Giles what you said, okay?"   
  
"Thanks," smiled Pat, picking up the hint that this conversation was over. "Guess I'll be on my way."   
  
"It was good seeing you again," smiled Dawn.   
  
Pat stared at her for a moment, quite surprised.   
  
"Really? The last time we met...well, it got a little ugly there for a while," cringed Pat.   
  
"Oh. Um...hey, it was just too soon, ya know? To her death, I mean," frowned Dawn.   
  
"Yeah. Guess so. Be seeing you," said Pat, turning to go. She glanced back once over her shoulder, a puzzled look on her face. And then she was gone.   
  
Dawn took her sunglasses off and smiled. Her eyes were completely black.   
  
*****   
  
Faith opened her eyes and reached out across the bed but then remembered where she was. He wasn't here. She got up and moved quickly to the window, placing her hand against the shade. It was warm, heated on the other side by the sun. Faith left her hand there, letting that warmth creep into her skin, hungry for its touch. She let her fingers drift down, brushing against the coarseness of the shade, reluctant to break the connection to something she could never have again.   
  
Faith quickly got dressed and didn't bother to make the bed. Unlocking her door she stepped into the hall and nearly bumped into Willow.   
  
"Oh, hey. I was just coming to get you," said Faith.   
  
"Why?" asked Willow.   
  
"Uh, come on in here, okay?"   
  
Faith didn't wait for an answer. She pulled Willlow into the bedroom and, looking up and down the hall once, shut the door.   
  
"What's up?" asked Willow.   
  
"Well, first, I need you to do me a favor. Pat's back in town."   
  
"Really," sighed Willow.   
  
"Yeah," nodded Faith, ignoring her reaction. "Giles said she was staying at the motel out by the airport but she told me she was staying in that dump at the edge of town. The one I stayed at...before."   
  
"I know the place," nodded Willow.   
  
"So, could you access their guest books and tell me where she's staying? Quentin Travers is probably with her and they might both be using an alias."   
  
"Sure. It'll only take a few minutes. Though I'm not sure your old haunt even has a computer."   
  
"Oh, right. Damn!" frowned Faith.   
  
"I'll just call there and ask," smiled Willow. "Why do you care where she's staying?"   
  
"I don't. I'll only care if she's lying to me."   
  
"Gotcha. I think," added Willow, screwing up her face. "So, is that it?"   
  
"Um, no. We...we need to talk," said Faith.   
  
"I did say I was sorry about seeing if you could fly or not," pouted Willow.   
  
"No, it's not that."   
  
Faith hesitated and Willow knowingly sighed.   
  
"I heard her voice, Faith, even if you didn't. And she knew us."   
  
"So that's it? You completely trust this, this...ghost? You sure you dialed the right number here Will? This is a very long distance call," said Faith.   
  
"It's her. I know it," said Willow, though she looked away from Faith's gaze.   
  
"You want it to be. And I'm on board with that. Hell, I hope it is her. I do," said Faith, softening her tone. Willow raised her eyes to meet hers again. "But what if it isn't?"   
  
Willow chewed on her lower lip and put her hands on her hips.   
  
"Then I guess we'll find out, won't we?" answered Willow. She turned to go but Faith grabbed her arm.   
  
"Buffy wouldn't be afraid of me!"   
  
Willow twisted her arm free.   
  
"No, but she sure had a reason or two to be pissed, right?" yelled Willow.   
  
"That's not fair. We worked things out, remember?" reminded Faith.   
  
"Maybe. Maybe not," shot back Willow, causing Faith to flinch. Willow turned and grabbed the door handle.   
  
"Red, listen to me!," screamed Faith.   
  
Willow spun around, stunned. Faith hadn't called her that since...   
  
"Just...listen, damn it!"   
  
Willow stared at Faith, determined not to show her how that name had hurt. And to not think about why she suddenly cared that it did.   
  
"I need you to hear me out, to hear what I have to say with your head, not with your heart. I wouldn't...Willow, I would never hurt you. You know that, don't you? Not after what we..."   
  
Willow's hand moved up and touched the scar on her neck. She didn't look at Faith.   
  
"Um, you can use your heart for that one, okay?," smiled Faith.   
  
Willow looked up and Faith caught a hint of a smile, however brief.   
  
"Go on," said Willow, lowering her hand.   
  
"Alright. Maybe this is Buffy, maybe it isn't," started Faith, holding up a hand to silence Willow's protest. "If it is Buffy then nothing we do will harm her, right? Can't hurt a ghost."   
  
"I guess," agreed Willow reluctantly. "Might upset her, but...sorry, go on."   
  
"Good. But if it isn't Buffy, then we're dealing with a ghost or, or a demon, or who the hell knows what? What is this thing most likely after?"   
  
"Um, well..."   
  
"Come on, Willow, think. It probably wants a way back, maybe by taking over someone's body. That's a possibility, right?," encouraged Faith.   
  
"Sure," sighed Willow. "But only one."   
  
"Willow, with your head, not your heart, remember?," smiled Faith.   
  
Willow nodded. Faith stepped over to her and put both hands on Willow's shoulders.   
  
"This thing, if it's not Buffy, could hurt Dawn. Could kill her. We just don't know. Buffy would die before she would allow anything to happen to Dawn. And so would I."   
  
Willow became rigid at hearing those words.   
  
"That's right. Buffy did die to protect her. So what does she want with Dawn? Why Dawn...unless this spook playing on your emotions?" asked Faith gently.   
  
Willow inhaled slowly, doubt obvious on her face. Faith smiled again.   
  
"If it's not Buffy we won't hurt her," repeated Faith. "And we'd be protecting Dawn. Buffy would understand that, she would feel our intentions."   
  
Willow nodded.   
  
"So, how do we fight this thing? Find out where this ghost is buried maybe?"   
  
Willow almost smiled again.   
  
"Yeah. You have to purify the corpse, assuming you can find the grave," replied Willow.   
  
"Good," nodded Faith. "And how do we do that?"   
  
"With holy water," explained Willow as if she thought Faith should have known the answer.   
  
"Oh," winced Faith, dropping her arms to her side.   
  
"Or fire," added Willow optimistically.   
  
"Two of my favorite things. I feel like breaking into a song from the Sound of Music," frowned Faith. "So, how do we find the grave?"   
  
"I have no idea," shrugged Willow, somewhat embarrassed.   
  
Faith ran a hand over her face, holding it over her chin and gaping at Willow in frustration.   
  
*****   
  
Giles leaned forward, placing a hand to either side of the sink as he looked out the kitchen window. He sighed to himself, knowing he couldn't hurry the sundown simply because he wished it so. Though it was quiet now it was far from peaceful. He was far from peaceful.   
  
Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a silver flask and twisted off the top. Holding it out, staring at the shiny metal, he was tempted if only briefly to dump the contents into the sink. He hand trembled just enough to remind him how foolish that thought was. Giles tilted his head back and choked down a mouthful of the warm liquid, wincing as it burned his throat.   
  
"Giles."   
  
Giles coughed and dropped the flask. It bounced into the sink, clanging loudly. He spun around, eyes wide open.   
  
"Oh, it's you. I'm, I'm sorry Dawn. For a minute there...I, I thought I heard Buffy's voice," smiled Giles apologetically.   
  
"You did."   
  
Giles froze. It was her voice. Dawn looked at him, calm and unconcerned yet unsmiling.   
  
"Buffy?" whispered Giles, his voice aching with hope.   
  
Dawn's lips curled upward, hinting at a smile. She nodded her head once.   
  
"B-but, but how?"   
  
"I told you, I'm already here. And I wanted to talk to you. Alone."   
  
Giles stood just a little more erect and tilted his head slightly towards Dawn.   
  
"Dawn...um, I mean Buffy...show me your eyes."   
  
Dawn hesitated but the leaned forward and slipped her sunglasses down to the end of her nose. Just as before, her eyes were completely black. She pushed them back to the bridge of her nose and sighed.   
  
"You don't believe that it's me," said Dawn.   
  
"I didn't say that. I'm only..."   
  
"Thinking of Dawn," finished Dawn. And then she smiled. "You always had the best instincts when it came to protecting the people you loved, Giles."   
  
Giles seemed a little uncomfortable but he didn't smile at the compliment and he didn't take his eyes off of Dawn. Instead of getting used to hearing Buffy's voice eminating from Dawn he was beginning to find it most disturbing.   
  
"So, guess I should prove to you who I am. Like...like when you were a demon and I didn't know who you were. Or, or better yet, like when Faith was in my body," said Dawn excitedly, "and I had to tell you things so that you would know..."   
  
Dawn trailed off and looked down at the floor, lost in thought. And then she smiled yet again.   
  
"Giles, a long time ago you asked me where a corkscrew earring could dangle from and you were more than a little embarrassed when I told you," grinned Dawn.   
  
Giles' lips parted and his mouth opened just so slightly. He was staring at her now, eyes begging her to continue, wanting so desperately not to believe her but to believe in her, that this was possible. Dawn closed the few steps that were open between them and reached out, tracing a finger gently across the back of his hand.   
  
"To touch something. Such a simple gesture, so easily taken for granted. I'm already forgetting, Giles. But, but I guess you can't understand, can you?" she winced.   
  
"Buffy," whispered Giles.   
  
"Giles, you don't blame yourself. Deep down, you know that. No, it wasn't your fault. Wouldn't it be easier for you to just say what you've been thinking all along? Even now I can feel it, this, this rage. You want to scream it, let everyone know the truth...but you don't dare. You're still protecting them, aren't you?"   
  
"Buffy, please...don't. I believe it's you. I do. Just don't..."   
  
"Giles, say it. You're mad at me. You know it wasn't your fault. All my talk of despair, of, of asking what it all means, of questioning why I even bothered to..."   
  
"Buffy!" shouted Giles, gripping her by the shoulders. "It doesn't matter any more. You're..."   
  
"Dead. Hey, obvious much?" She ignored him as he flinched. "Giles, just say it. It wasn't a sacrfice. It was..."   
  
"No," whispered Giles, shaking his head. His face tightened as he fought for control, forcing back the tears. "Buffy, it wasn't a suicide, you didn't kill yourself...you didn't. Because if you did, then I failed you more...more than you can ever forgive me."   
  
Giles winced and kept his eyes closed. His body shook as he gave in, letting go as he had so needed to, no longer having to be strong for the others. Dawn spread her arms around him and pulled him close, rubbing his back. For a moment, with his eyes closed, it was easy to imagine that it was Buffy that was holding him now. But he had held his Slayer many times before and Dawn's smaller body against his felt...wrong somehow. It was he who provided comfort, not the one who sought it out.   
  
He gently tried to pull away but Dawn held onto him fiercely.   
  
"Giles...I did what had to be done, nothing more. There's nothing to be angry at. Dawn is alive...and that's all that mattered to me," said Dawn, turning her face against his chest. She let go of him with one arm and pulled off the sunglasses to look up at him. Her eyes held no tears.   
  
"I'm sorry, but I had to let you know it was me. I had to make you believe. Don't cry, Giles. I'm not in pain," said Dawn, touching his cheek. Giles pressed against her hand.   
  
"I miss you," he mouthed, barely saying the words.   
  
"I know," nodded Dawn.   
  
He closed his eyes again, crying freely. Dawn eased away from him but held both his hands in hers.   
  
"Giles, there's something you need to know. About...about Faith."   
  
That last word hung in the air between them ghostlike, a shadow taken form.   
  
*****   
  
Still as a breath, no more conspicuous than a shadow, waiting. Pat didn't need to see to understand so she closed her eyes, trusting what she heard and the scents brought to her by the gentle night breeze. Eyes could deceive; best to trust your most primal senses. She could hunt like this for hours, motionless, the thrill of the chase replaced by the anticpation, the deep, lingering satisfaction of knowing she had caused fear in one of them. The Slayer only opened her eyes to experience the shock on the vampire's face when it knew what had waited for it.   
  
And she smiled every time.   
  
Alone. Always alone. When Faith had trained her the older Slayer constantly warned Pat about the isolation and the dangers it would bring. But friends were few and even farther between. Pat had quickly learned to embrace the solitude, had sought it out willingly. And had grown to trust in it.   
  
Nearby a branch was brushed against, almost unnoticed even to Pat. Almost. Her eyes did open now but only because there was a chance, however slim, that what was creeping towards her might be Faith. That it was a vampire Pat had no doubt. She also knew that it could hear her heartbeat.   
  
It emerged from the woods. Pat tried not to smile. The vampire did smile.   
  
Quickly bending down to pick up a rock the size of her fist, Pat turned and faced the vampire, now only a few feet away. He shook his head and laughed.   
  
"That won't help you, little girl."   
  
With an underhand toss, Pat flung the rock high into the air above them. Confused, the vampire looked up at it. He felt the stake enter his chest but never saw it.   
  
Pat shook the ash from her forearm and sighed.   
  
"When they're that stupid it just isn't as much fun," she complained, shaking her head. She pocketed the stake and turned towards the lake. And froze.   
  
A little girl was standing there in front of her, not an arm's reach away. Instinct made Pat jump into a defensive stance, hands raised. Her eyes were wide open as she wondered how this girl had been able to get this close to her. The girl, no more than eight or nine, didn't move. Pat lowered her fists ever so slowly.   
  
"Who are you?" challenged Pat.   
  
The girl only stared at her. And a moment later Pat realized the breeze she felt on her face should've been moving this girl's long brown hair. But it wasn't. Pat took a step back, tilting her head slightly and lowering her arms. The girl smiled.   
  
And then she simply faded away.   
  
Pat staggered back until she bumped into the smooth trunk of the tree behind her. Moving her eyes but not her head, Pat sought out any movement in the woods around her, listened intently to the night. But she was alone.   
  
Pat turned and ran.   
  
*****   
  
Tara sat with Dawn on her bed. Xander and Anya stood by the closet. He slipped his hand into hers and she flashed him a grateful smile. Giles paced by the window, occassionally glancing out into the night. He had seen Spike out there earlier but the street was empty now. Faith sat by the door with her back to the wall, not looking at anyone. No one looked at her.   
  
Willow entered the room and Faith looked up expectantly.   
  
"Neither of them are registered at the airport motel. Finally got someone to pick up the phone at the other place. We haggled a bit but the owner finally fessed up that a girl matching Pat's description was staying there," nodded Willow.   
  
"How'd ya get him to fess up?" asked Faith, impressed.   
  
"Oh, I just mentioned something about the local police being interested in investigating a report of underage prostitution," smiled Willow.   
  
"Thanks," laughed Faith. Willow frowned.   
  
"So she didn't lie to you," said Willow.   
  
"Looks like," said Faith, puzzled.   
  
Willow walked over and sat down on the bed with Dawn between her and Tara.   
  
"You feel okay?" asked Willow. Dawn bravely nodded.   
  
The room became silent, the only sound the ticking of a clock.   
  
"Dawn, I don't remember you having a clock that ticked," said Tara.   
  
"Oh, um, I brought it. From the shop," explained Giles, nodding towards the dresser where it sat. "Not really sure why. It just...seemed like the thing to do."   
  
"Buffy liked that clock," said Dawn.   
  
"What? Really?" asked Giles.   
  
"Yeah," smiled Dawn. "Liked the sound it made when she was all alone there, just...listening to it. Somehow it belonged there, you know?"   
  
Faith stared at the clock, lost in her own thoughts. Looking away, she noticed that Dawn was staring at her. And she still wore her sunglasses. Puzzled, Faith looked away.   
  
"Okay, I hate to bring this up, but will Buffy show up if, if Faith is here?" asked Anya, cringing.   
  
"I'm not leaving. Buffy has no reason to be afraid of me," said Faith calmly.   
  
"Oh, I didn't mean that you should leave," replied Anya quickly. "It's just, well, what exactly is going to happen?"   
  
"I'm not sure," shrugged Willow. "But she'll show. She said she would."   
  
"She will," said Dawn.   
  
The room became very quiet again. It took a moment for Faith to realize that everyone was looking at Dawn. She slowly got to her feet. Dawn stood up as well.   
  
"They hear Buffy's voice, don't they?" asked Faith, not taking her eyes from Dawn.   
  
"Yes. Look, I don't understand the rules. This just...is," shrugged Dawn. "Maybe because you're dead...I don't know. Faith, Giles believes me. And I think Willow does. Let me show you."   
  
"Show me what?" asked Faith suspiciously. Dawn took off her sunglasses.   
  
"Buffy? Are you, um, in pain? Where you are, I mean," said Xander.   
  
"No. But I shouldn't be here. And I can't stay. There's something I need you to do."   
  
"What?" asked Willow.   
  
"In a minute. First I need to leave Dawn. It's the only way she'll be able to see me," said Dawn.   
  
"We're not seeing you now," replied Faith. Dawn smiled.   
  
"Oh, you mean you need to, um, occupy one of us? You can use me," offered Willow happily. Dawn sat back down on the bed.   
  
"No, that's not what I mean. Faith, turn off the light. Tara, after it's dark, light that candle behind us, okay?" asked Dawn.   
  
Tara looked to Giles for approval.   
  
"It's okay, Tara. If there's trouble Faith can see in the dark. And this won't take long," smiled Giles.   
  
Faith shot Giles a puzzled look but reached up on the wall behind her and pulled the switch downwards. A moment later came the sound of a match being lit. The single candle lit the room well. Dawn was now lying on the bed, eyes closed. Everyone stared at her but nothing happened. Everyone but Faith. She focused on a shadow in the corner of the room by the closet. One by one the others noticed and turned to look as Faith slowly took a couple of steps forward.   
  
The shadow took a step forward, wearing a white top and gray pants. The same clothes she had died in.   
  
"Hey."   
  
Buffy slowly looked around, smiling and yet seeming embarrassed. Focusing on Faith, she grinned as Faith's mouth dropped open.   
  
"Buffy?" whispered Faith.   
  
Buffy nodded.   
  
"You hear my voice now, Faith?" she asked.   
  
And now Faith nodded. Dawn stirred and quickly opened her eyes, bounding up into a sitting position. Though her eyes were once again red, she seemed fine.   
  
"Buffy?"   
  
Dawn jumped up and ran to Buffy.   
  
"Um, Dawn, don't..."   
  
Dawn tried to hug her sister but her arms passed right through her. She took a step back, staring.   
  
"Sorry," shrugged Buffy. "There's nothing here to hold onto. I needed the light low because it hurts my eyes. And the less light there is, the more solid I seem to you."   
  
"How...how did you know that?" asked Tara. Again Buffy shrugged.   
  
"I don't know. Guys, it's me. I don't know what else I can do to prove it."   
  
Buffy looked at Dawn and smiled.   
  
"Dawn, don't cry. I know you're doing okay. I feel it."   
  
Dawn wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.   
  
"How long can you stay?" asked Dawn hesitantly.   
  
"I'm not sure. Tonight, maybe tomorrow night. After that...I just don't know. And only here and...and the place I died. That was one of the tradeoffs of not using you. But you can see me now, Dawn."   
  
"Can you use another host? To stay longer?" asked Xander.   
  
"I don't want to," sighed Buffy.   
  
"Oh," winced Xander.   
  
"What did you want us to do?" asked Willow.   
  
"There's a field. I'm not sure where it is, but I know six people were killed and buried there. No one knows. Well, I know. But their families..."   
  
"We get it," smiled Willow. "Still thinking of others first, even where...well..."   
  
"I guess," nodded Buffy. "I know this place but, but I can't remember where it is. It's hard to explain. Oh, there's a beech tree, and a pond or maybe a lake."   
  
"A beech tree. I don't even know what one looks like," frowned Xander.   
  
"I do," said Faith. Everyone looked over at her but she kept her eyes on Buffy.   
  
"They're very common in Boston, all of New England. Only one I know of around here is down by the lake in Miller's Woods. Buffy, why were you frightened of me before? I, I don't get it," said Faith.   
  
Buffy smiled. The candle behind her flickered and to Faith the room suddenly seemed colder. Even the others seemed to notice. Anya rubbed her arms.   
  
"I wasn't frightened of you, Faith, but for you."   
  
"Huh?" answered Faith, narrowing her eyes.   
  
"Faith. You always liked hearing the sound of your own name, didn't you?" nodded Buffy.   
  
"What? B, what are you talking about?" asked Faith, aware that everyone in the room suddenly seemed to find something else to look at besides her or Buffy.   
  
"Faith...I'm dead. Oh, not like you. I mean, I'm gone, you know? It's a big deal. You get a different...perspective on things."   
  
"I hear ya," nodded Faith, not taking her eyes from her, as if she would blink and Buffy would disappear.   
  
Buffy smiled. And her smile became a laugh.   
  
"No, you don't. See, it's like this. I know what's waiting for you. There is no redemption, Faith. Not for you. The cards have already been dealt. You came up short."   
  
Faith bit her lower lip. Though she stared even more desperately at Buffy, her resolve was shaken. She swallowed to try to keep from shaking.   
  
"Maybe...maybe you'll understand it this way. If God won't forgive you for what you've done, well...why the hell should I?" smiled Buffy coldly.   
  
Faith's mouth dropped open. It took her a second or two but she shook her head in denial, in disbelief.   
  
"B...please, how can you..."   
  
Faith's weak protest was shattered by Buffy's laughter. She shook her head sadly at the distraught girl.   
  
"What you had...what you've lost! Such a waste. Even now you make me sick to my stomach. Just...leave already," sighed Buffy.   
  
Faith looked down, not focusing on anything. Tears ran down her cheeks but she made no effort to wipe them away or to hide her face. Backing up slowly she bumped into the wall next to the door and reached unsteadily behind her with a shaking hand. With a last glance at Buffy she staggered into the hall and moved out of view, her slow footfalls the only sound in the room.   
  
Dawn slowly turned to face her sister, furious.   
  
"How could you do that to her? You...you enjoyed that!" snipped Dawn, her head shaking in disbelief. Buffy only stared at her, expressionless. Dawn turned to run after Faith but was stopped by Giles putting an arm out to block her. He had been so quiet this whole time that, lost in their own feelings, they had almost forgotten he was there.   
  
"No. I'll talk to her," said Giles.   
  
"But..."   
  
"No," repeated Giles firmly. Dawn cringed at how forceful he was and stepped away but kept her back turned to Buffy. Giles left the room and found Faith standing at the top of the stairs as if lost, unaware of where she was.   
  
"Faith."   
  
Faith stood there as if she hadn't heard. Giles inhaled slowly and touched her shoulder. Her head slowly moved to look at his hand. Gradually she raised her eyes to meet his.   
  
"It can't be true...it can't be! Giles, you, you don't believe her, do you?" asked Faith, her voice painfully desperate, clinging to the hope that he could comfort her.   
  
Giles opened his mouth but didn't speak. He couldn't look at her.   
  
"Nice I'll-make-it-all-better speech," whispered Faith, her shoulders drooping. She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head.   
  
"Giles...why?" pleaded Faith forlornly, her voice a raspy whisper. "We, we made up...things were cool between us. And Dawn, she...she's my sister now. Buffy knows that. Giles...why?"   
  
Giles lowered his head and opened his arms to Faith. She gratefully fell into him, closing her eyes and holding on to him tightly.   
  
"Giles, I don't want to go," cried Faith.   
  
"Go? Faith, you left us a long time ago."   
  
Faith slowly opened her eyes and stepped away from him, gazing at him in horror.   
  
"All your life you've sought out pain. Well, I guess it's found you," he sighed.   
  
"Giles?" whispered Faith, her voice torn with fear.   
  
"Buffy's right. I thought you were like Angel, that you could be saved, could redeem yourself. That perhaps we could even help you," chuckled Giles. "But you're not like Angel. He had no choice in what happened to him. But you..."   
  
"Giles...no," whispered Faith in agony. "No. Please."   
  
Giles simply stared at her, shaking his head.   
  
"Giles, you promised me...you did," sobbed Faith.   
  
"Faith, you're no better than the depraved filth that you hunt," spat Giles. He turned and slowly walked back to the bedroom.   
  
Faith collapsed back against the wall behind her, absolutely numb, unable to move. One last time she looked at his back as he moved away from her. She crawled over to the stairs and weakly pulled herself to her feet, her body trembling with the effort. By the time Dawn peeked around the corner of the bedroom door, Faith was gone.   
  
END OF PART EIGHT


	9. Nine

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART NINE   
  
Dawn crossed her arms, her face revealing just how torn she was between the joy of seeing her sister again and the anger over what Buffy just done to Faith. Buffy looked at Dawn, well aware that everyone in the room was staring at her.   
  
"Okay, that came out a little harsh," winced Buffy.   
  
"Ya think?" yelled Dawn. "Buffy, even if it's true...and I didn't believe it for one second...how could you do that to her? Why?"   
  
"Dawn, it's hard to explain," said Buffy slowly.   
  
"Well, try, damn it!"   
  
"Okay. See, emotions here, well, they're harder to handle. It takes longer to move from one to another and everything is just so, so intense. Anger, pain...joy," smiled Buffy. "It can be a little overwhelming."   
  
Dawn sniffed once or twice and then looked down.   
  
"But...you're not in pain?" she asked softly.   
  
"Well, no, but..."   
  
Dawn looked up again, concerned. Buffy tried to smile for her.   
  
"Remember when I told you that the hardest thing to do in this world was to live in it?"   
  
Dawn nodded, her lower lip trembling.   
  
"I was wrong. Being here, not being able to touch you...this is harder. It's why I don't want to stay. Why I can't stay," said Buffy, looking around the room, pausing to hold each one of her friends in turn with her gaze. Only Willow looked away. Tara slipped a hand around her waist.   
  
"I'm getting very tired. This is hard for me to do, just being here. Um, I'll be back as soon as I can, maybe in an hour. I'm just not sure. But I will come back. Guys, can I talk to Willow alone for a moment?"   
  
"Sure," nodded Xander. He looked at Buffy once more, swallowed hard and then took Anya by her arm and led her from the room. Tara gave Willow's hand a gentle squeeze and then took Dawn's hand, pulling her along to follow Xander. Dawn looked back over her shoulder the whole time.   
  
Giles awkwardly realized that it was his turn to leave and turned to go.   
  
"No. Giles, please stay," said Buffy. He nodded gratefully and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.   
  
"Will, you feeling okay? It couldn't have been easy for you, doing, well, whatever it was you had to do," said Buffy.   
  
"I'm good. Little tired, but...thanks for asking," smiled Willow.   
  
"When I come back I'll tell you what we have to do. It's not as easy as finding the graves. But I want to help these people."   
  
"We will," nodded Willow. "Of course we will."   
  
"So, you two know Faith better than the others. Think she'll be mad enough to interfere?"   
  
"No. I don't think we'll be seeing her again anytime soon," sighed Giles.   
  
"Still, I got a bad feeling about this," answered Buffy.   
  
"No prob. I'll take care of it," grinned Willow enthusiastically.   
  
"But..."   
  
"Buffy, trust me. It only involves a simple little spell. Faith will be too busy to bother us."   
  
"Thanks. I'll be back. Soon."   
  
And, saying that, Buffy simply faded away. Willow looked at Giles and was surprised to see that he seemed sad. Very sad.   
  
"Giles?"   
  
Giles glanced at her, startled from his thoughts.   
  
"It's nothing," he replied quickly, turning around and leaving the room before Willow could press him for an explanation.   
  
She frowned and looked at where Buffy had last been standing. Leaning forward to blow out the candle, she changed her mind, letting it burn, and walked away, heading straight for Faith's room. She went right over to the bed and picked up Faith's pillow, smiling as she plucked a strand of hair from it.   
  
"Going to do another spell?"   
  
Startled, Willow turned and faced Tara who was standing in the doorway behind her.   
  
"Yeah, I am," replied Willow. "Why do you..."   
  
Willow stopped, taking in the look of disappointment and dread on her girlfriend's face.   
  
"You still don't believe it's Buffy?" asked Willow.   
  
"Does it matter what I believe?"   
  
"Honey, of course it does," pouted Willow.   
  
Tara took a deep breath for confidence and looked up at Willow.   
  
"No. It's not her."   
  
"What? You saw her. How can you say that?" demanded Willow.   
  
"You don't know?" shot back Tara, astonished.   
  
"No," answered Willow warily, suddenly wishing she wasn't so far from Tara, wanting very much to feel her arms around her. Tara didn't get mad at her very often, if ever at all.   
  
"Buffy always put others first, always protected those she loved with a passion...with her life. She knows that Faith loves Dawnie like a sister, that Faith will protect her sister. The real Buffy would never had said those things to Faith, even if she knew they were true. She would have protected Faith if only because her sister loves Faith."   
  
Tara took another deep breath and studied Willow.   
  
"It's that simple, Willow."   
  
"But...no, see, we're helping people here. And, and she explained. You heard. About the emotions, I mean," protested Willow.   
  
"I heard. You didn't."   
  
Tara turned and walked away.   
  
"Tara, wait!"   
  
Willow sighed and looked at the hair she held, rubbing it between her fingers. Glancing over at the nightstand, she noticed the photograph of Buffy smiling back at her. Willow grabbed a candle from Faith's dresser, knelt down and began to prepare herself mentally for the spell.   
  
*****   
  
Spike tossed the spent cigarette to the ground and lit another one, inhaling deeply, not taking his eyes from the Summer's house. A moment later he realized that he wasn't alone. Turning in astonishment, he almost let the cigarette slip from his lips. Pat was standing so close to him that he almost bumped into her.   
  
"You're getting good," he acknowledged. "Just don't get a big head about it. I was distracted."   
  
Spike ignored her and turned back to face the house.   
  
"Anything of interest or are you just hoping one of the girls will get changed without pulling the shade down?" asked Pat, a hint of disgust in her voice.   
  
"No luck with either, I'm afraid. A light goes off, a candle goes on...bloody waste of time. How 'bout you?"   
  
"Saw a ghost. First time for everything, I guess," shrugged Dawn.   
  
"Well, this is Sunnydale. Anyone we know?" grinned Spike.   
  
"So what did Xander say?" asked Pat, ignoring his gallows humor.   
  
"Wouldn't even invite me in to his flat, the bint. Told me Watcher Boy is coming along fine. None too pleased to learn of your visit, I might add. You meet up with Dawn?"   
  
"Yeah. She seemed...different somehow. Not herself. But she said she'd talk to Giles. Faith still inside? Dawn told me she wanted to meet but she never showed," sighed Pat.   
  
"That's odd. She left here almost an hour ago," said Spike, only glancing at Pat.   
  
"You didn't talk to her?"   
  
"Nope. Girl looked to be in one of her moods and I didn't feel like having it taken out on me. Especially since I can't defend myself, ya know?" winked Spike.   
  
"Which way did she go?"   
  
"Are you listening? I didn't ask and I couldn't care!"   
  
Pat reached up and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Without flinching or even blinking she put it out on her open palm and threw the butt to the ground.   
  
"Start caring. As in go find her before I get into one of my moods. I'm going to find out what the hell they're up to."   
  
Pat didn't wait for Spike's answer as she expected none. She turned her back to him knowing that would piss him off even more and walked towards the front door.   
  
Dawn was sitting at the kitchen table drawing in her sketch pad when she heard the knock on the front door. Seeing no one else around she got up to answer it.   
  
"Pat!" exclaimed Dawn.   
  
"Hey, Dawn. Do you know where Faith is? She never met up with me. You did say she wanted to see me, right?" asked Pat.   
  
"I said? Pat, what are you talking about? I haven't seen you since...well, you know when," glared Dawn.   
  
"Huh? Dawn, I spoke to you a few hours ago. I was standing right here!"   
  
"Huhing you huh, are you on drugs? I was tired and took a nap. In fact I slept most of the afternoon."   
  
Pat stared at Dawn but she believed Dawn was telling the truth.   
  
"Dawn, I don't know if a spell was involved or...well, I don't know what else. But you and I stood out here this afternoon. You told me that Faith was still sleeping but that she wanted to meet me down by the lake, about an hour after sunset. And what's with the glasses?"   
  
"The lake?" repeated Dawn absently. "Oh, the glasses."   
  
Dawn took them off and showed her red eyes to Pat. Pat cringed.   
  
"It must've been Buffy. But why would she tell you..."   
  
"Hello? Buffy? Dawn, what's going on?" demanded Pat.   
  
Willow walked up to the door and stood behind Dawn.   
  
"Pat," said Willow, simply acknowledging her presence.   
  
"Hello," responded Pat.   
  
"Um, Willow, we're trying to figure something out. Pat says that she and I had a conversation right here this afternoon. But I thought I was asleep in my room. It must've been..."   
  
"Buffy. She did say that she was already here," sighed Willow.   
  
"Possession? Buffy took over her sister's body?" asked Pat, eyes wide.   
  
"Well, it's a little more complicated than that. We can see her now. Just not right now," said Willow.   
  
"Right. Whatever. Dawn, you don't remember me talking to you? Anything?" asked Pat.   
  
"No," shrugged Dawn.   
  
"But Buffy would have. I warned you, er, I mean her, about Giles," said Pat.   
  
"Giles? What about Giles?" asked Xander, suddenly joining them with Anya in tow.   
  
"The Council wants him out," replied Pat.   
  
"Well, the way I hear it is that they want Faith out and you in. Already seen that movie," shrugged Xander. "Sorry, not interested."   
  
The sound of a motorcycle pulling up in front of the house drowned out Pat's response but she looked none too happy. Matthieu hopped off his bike and walked up to the crowd.   
  
"Hey," he smiled. "Anyone seen Faith? She never showed at the Fish Tank."   
  
"Oh, Matthieu, this is Pat. Pat, meet Matthieu. He's Faith's boyfriend," explained Dawn. Pat raised her eyebrows and awkwardly offered her hand.   
  
"Hey."   
  
"Nice to meet you. How do you know Faith?" he asked, shaking her hand.   
  
"We're...related."   
  
"Oh? She didn't mention anyone...um, then again, we haven't been together long," said Matthieu.   
  
"Matthieu, Pat took over for Faith. After she died," said Dawn.   
  
Pat shot Dawn a shocked look.   
  
"Hey, he knows all about her!" said Dawn.   
  
"Oh. So you're the next Slayer," said Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah. Guess so. Willow, how's Giles doing?"   
  
"He's okay. Really. He's upstairs in Dawn's room, waiting for Buffy. Why?"   
  
"Guys, I think we should find Faith. She was pretty upset when she left," interrupted Dawn.   
  
"Upset? Why?" asked Matthieu. "Wait a minute, waiting for Buffy?"   
  
"Buffy said some pretty mean things to her. Stuff like, well, that she would never be forgiven. It got nasty," cringed Dawn. "I think she ran off before Giles could talk to her."   
  
"Buffy said?" repeated Matthieu.   
  
"So where would she go? Anyone?" asked Pat, glaring at them.   
  
"Actually, if she's not with Dawn or at the Fish Tank, I don't think we really know much about what she does in her free time. It, uh, just never came up," said Anya.   
  
"And you're her friends?" asked Matthieu.   
  
More than one or two of them looked away, embarrassed.   
  
"The beach!" yelled Dawn. "Yeah, she likes it there. I'll bet that's where she is. If she wanted to be alone, that's where she'd go."   
  
Pat looked up at Matthieu.   
  
"Be a lot quicker if someone drove me there," she hinted. Matthieu smiled.   
  
"We'll find her," said Matthieu to Dawn. "Come on, Pat. You ever been on a bike before?"   
  
"Rode dirt bikes growing up in New Hampshire. You want me to drive? Might get us there quicker," she answered, already walking towards his motorcycle and pointedly ignoring the others.   
  
"Good luck," called Dawn. She watched them leave and then ran upstairs without looking at anyone. Willow glanced at Tara but Tara ignored her and walked into the kitchen. Willow looked at Xander and he shrugged uncomfortably, forcing a smile.   
  
"This is fun," sighed Anya.   
  
Tara sat down at the table and noticed Dawn's sketch pad. She flipped it over and slowly stood up, staring at the drawing in front of her. Turning first one page and then another, each image was the same but drawn from a different perspective. The attention to shadow and detail was impressive. Tara hadn't realized that Dawn had such talent.   
  
Each drawing was a sketch of Buffy's grave.   
  
*****   
  
The lights were off and once again the room was only lit by a single candle. They heard her voice before they saw her.   
  
"Hey."   
  
Buffy emerged from the shadows, wearing the same clothes as before but somehow she seemed...different. Willow realized that she looked tired, almost sad.   
  
"Will, you know where this beech tree is?" asked Buffy.   
  
"Yeah," nodded Willow. "But why don't we just leave an anonymous tip with the police? They could discover the bodies and contact the families."   
  
"Well, see, it's more complicated than that," said Buffy uneasily. "It's because of how these people died. You could just find the bodies. That would give the families some closure at least."   
  
"So...how did they die?" asked Xander uncomfortably.   
  
"They, uh, they weren't quite dead when they were buried. They were buried alive."   
  
"Ew!" grimaced Dawn.   
  
"What's with the complicated? They're dead," said Anya.   
  
"Um, you need to say their names, call to them, just before you uncover the body. Otherwise they won't be able to rest. Won't be able to find peace," frowned Buffy.   
  
"Your classic spook haunting," nodded Xander.   
  
"Yeah. Something like that. I'll be able to help you when you're there," said Buffy uneasily.   
  
"Help? Help how?" asked Willow.   
  
"With the names. And, and where the graves are," added Buffy.   
  
"Buffy, are you okay? You seem, I don't know, nervous?" asked Willow.   
  
"I'm okay. This is just...weird, you know? Giles, can you drive them there?"   
  
Giles was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was looking in Buffy's direction but his eyes weren't focused on her.   
  
"Giles?" repeated Buffy.   
  
"Hmm? What? Oh, drive. Yes, of course."   
  
Buffy concentrated on him for a moment then gave Willow a worried look.   
  
"We should probably get going then," said Willow off of Buffy's look. "You got that shovel, Xander?"   
  
"Yep. It's already in the trunk of his car."   
  
"Okay then people, let's move," ordered Willow. They began leaving the room. Tara paused for a second, staring at Buffy.   
  
"Tara, my middle name is Anne. Does that make you feel any better?" whispered Buffy. Tara ignored her and walked away.   
  
Willow sighed and looked at Buffy. She and Dawn were the last two in the room.   
  
"Can I see you? After this is over, I mean. Before...before you go?" asked Dawn weakly.   
  
Buffy smiled and nodded.   
  
"Wouldn't have it any other way," she answered. Dawn smiled appreciatively.   
  
"We'll get this done," reassured Willow. "Come on, Dawn. Time to go."   
  
Dawn reluctantly nodded and let Willow lead her from the room. Buffy walked over to Dawn's desk and stared at a photo of her and Dawn, arms around each other and smiling.   
  
"I'm sorry!" cursed Buffy. Glancing up at the door, Buffy shook her head and faded into nothing.   
  
*****   
  
The parking lot along the seawall was surprisingly empty. As soon as Matthieu shut off the engine the could hear the gentle swell of the waves as they broke upon the shore, could smell the salt air. It would've been considered serene on any other night.   
  
"I don't see her," said Matthieu. "But it is kinda dark. Maybe we should take a walk."   
  
He looked back at Pat. She was staring out at the water, almost as if she were listening for something.   
  
"Pat?"   
  
"She's here," nodded Pat confidently.   
  
"How do you know that?" he asked, scrunching his eyebrows together. Pat simply smiled at him.   
  
"Oh, you mean...you can sense her? Because she's a vampire?"   
  
"Something like that. Come on."   
  
They walked along the beach just below the high water mark where the footing was a little more solid. After about a minute they saw her, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs, just staring out at the water.   
  
"Matthieu, give me a minute or two with her alone, okay?"   
  
"Sure," agreed Matthieu reluctantly.   
  
"Thanks."   
  
Pat sat on the sand next to Faith, mimicking the way she was sitting. She glanced out at the ocean but then tilted her head and looked at Faith, waiting for her to speak first. It didn't surprise Pat that Faith's face was in her vampire form. In fact she had expected it. Faith's eyes red and raw from crying but were dry now. She just stared straight ahead as if Pat wasn't there.   
  
"I used to hate the sunrise, you know? It meant my hunt was over for another night. It was over."   
  
Faith turned her head to look at Pat.   
  
"God, how I miss the sunrise," she whispered. She began to cry again so she hid her face against her arms.   
  
"My summer is gone," sniffed Faith. Pat screwed up her face at that, not knowing what to say. She reached out and touched Faith's shoulder.   
  
"I can't do this anymore, Pat. I can't. It just doesn't matter," sobbed Faith.   
  
"Of course it does! How can you say that?"   
  
Faith raised her head and stared at Pat.   
  
"Look at me. This is what I am and it's all I ever will be. It's...it's just wrong. I know it and so do the others," winced Faith.   
  
"Excuse me, Slayer, but how are you any different from me? Hey, I know, I'm going to die. You're not!"   
  
Faith studied Pat and then smiled.   
  
"Nice try. And why should I believe you anyway? You even lied to Giles about where you were staying!"   
  
"What? No, I didn't. I lied to Travers. He thinks I'm at the airport motel."   
  
"Huh? Why? And where's he?"   
  
"He's in some five star hotel just out of town. I'm staying at that dive you stayed at because...because I wanted to know what it was like for you. So that I could maybe understand what you went through, why you did what you did," sighed Pat. "Go on, make fun of me."   
  
"I would. But there's no reason for me to care anymore," said Faith.   
  
Matthew came over and stood behind them.   
  
"Actually, Faith, there is," he said.   
  
"You mean us, Matty?"   
  
"Well, maybe. I hope so. But what I meant was we have company," said Matthieu, looking down the beach past Faith.   
  
Faith turned around and then both girls stood up. Three vampires were approaching them.   
  
"Matthieu, do have a cross?" asked Pat.   
  
"No."   
  
"Here, take this," said Pat, pulling a cross from her back pocket. Matthieu looked at Faith as if he needed her approval.   
  
"Take it. And get back to your bike," said Faith firmly.   
  
"That might not be such a good idea," countered Pat, looking back behind them. Four more vampires were walking towards them from the street.   
  
Faith looked at Matthieu, her concern for him painfully visible.   
  
"Faith, we passed a building about half a mile down the road. Let's take out these three and then make a run for it. You got a stake?" asked Pat.   
  
"No."   
  
Pat pulled a stake from behind her back and handed it to her.   
  
"I always carry two," added Pat, freeing another stake from where she had it taped to her leg.   
  
"Stay behind us and get ready to run. And use that cross," warned Faith. Matthieu nodded.   
  
"I got the one on the left," announced Pat.   
  
"Let's party," smiled Faith.   
  
*****   
  
"So, what do we do now?" asked Xander of no one in particular.   
  
"We wait," replied Willow. They were standing under the beech tree, huddled together closely.   
  
"I'm no connoisseur of the living log, but this is kinda ugly as far as trees go," said Xander, looking up.   
  
"Oh, I don't know. I like it. It has...character," nodded Anya.   
  
"What are we waiting for?" asked Giles.   
  
"What?" asked Willow, not sure she heard him correctly.   
  
"What are we waiting for?" repeated Giles.   
  
"Well, Buffy, of course. She said she'd help us. Remember?" asked Willow.   
  
"And how can she do that when she told us she would only be able to be visible in Dawn's room..."   
  
"And the place where she died," finished Tara.   
  
Willow looked confused for a moment and then her eyes opened in fear.   
  
"You mean..."   
  
"Buffy!" cried Dawn excitedly, interrupting Willow.   
  
Willow grabbed Dawn's wrist before she could take a step towards the ghost. She looked back at Willow, mouth open in surprise, but Willow was staring at Buffy. And Buffy looked scared.   
  
"Buffy, I thought you said that when you took this form you could only appear to us at either your house or the place you died," said Willow, not letting go of Dawn's arm. Dawn slowly turned her head to face her sister, eyes narrowed in confusion.   
  
Buffy nodded once and looked down at the ground.   
  
"But...you didn't die here," said Willow, slowly releasing her hold on Dawn. Dawn didn't move. Buffy looked up at Willow and frowned.   
  
"Yes. I did."   
  
"You're not Buffy, are you?" accused Willow, stepping in front of Dawn to get between the ghost and her. Tara quickly stood next to Dawn as well.   
  
"I can explain," winced Buffy.   
  
"How could you?" spat Willow, her voice full of venom.   
  
"What do you mean you're not Buffy?" yelled Dawn. "You are! I know you are! You, you know things...you look like her," added Dawn, her voice small and fragile. Buffy looked down again, this time as if she would cry.   
  
"Dawn, let's go," ordered Willow firmly.   
  
"Willow, if she wanted to hurt us she could've done so by now!"   
  
"She already has," said Willow, her eyes not leaving the ghost. "Let's go. Now."   
  
"Please, we need your help! At least hear me out!" pleaded Buffy.   
  
Willow turned around and glared at Dawn, her eyes warning the younger girl to get moving. But then she noticed that Giles had fallen to his knees and was...staring at his hands. Xander knelt down next to him and said something that Willow couldn't hear.   
  
"The Willow who was Buffy Summer's best friend would have at least listened. You're not the same girl you once were," whispered Buffy.   
  
Willow whirled around and took two steps towards Buffy.   
  
"No, I'm not! But how would you know that? You're not her!" screamed Willow.   
  
"Because she was here, with us," replied Buffy flatly.   
  
Willow stared at the ghost, her right hand clenching into a fist.   
  
"Was? What...what do you mean was? She's...gone now?" asked Dawn softly, tears clouding her eyes.   
  
"You did reach her that first night. I can't explain it. Not in words that you would understand. We...we don't sense her presence. She's moved on," shrugged Buffy.   
  
"We?" questioned Willow with a suspicious tilt of her head.   
  
Buffy nodded, looking from Willow and back to Dawn.   
  
"When you contact one of us, like you did, others can hear. Sometimes they even pretend to be who you want them to be."   
  
"Like you did," snarled Tara.   
  
"Buffy tried to contact you, she did! But something happened. I think she got scared."   
  
"Scared? Of what?" demanded Willow. She glanced behind her to see both Xander and Anya talking to Giles now.   
  
"I don't know. But she was there, with us. How else could I know what I do? How else could I take her image if she hadn't touched me?" begged Buffy.   
  
Willow shook her head and put her arm around Dawn, hugging her.   
  
"Talk," demanded Willow, hands now on her hips.   
  
Buffy almost smiled. Then Willow held up a hand.   
  
"Wait. I don't want to see you like this. It's...sick," winced Willow. "Show us the real you."   
  
"We did not know each other when I was alive, Willow. Because I took this form, if I do what you ask you would see my corpse. As it is now. Is that want you want?"   
  
"That's okay! We can deal with, with this," interjected Dawn quickly, shaking her hand palm up at the ghost. Willow nodded her ascent.   
  
"At least tell me your name," said Willow.   
  
Buffy nodded sadly.   
  
"Karen. My name is Karen. If it was only me, I wouldn't have done this. Alone, I would've waited. Maybe I deserved this. I, I just don't know anymore. But the others...if nothing else, believe me now. Please," begged Buffy, waiting for a reaction.   
  
Neither Willow nor Dawn spoke. Buffy frowned and nodded.   
  
"You're standing at the edge of a graveyard," stated Buffy.   
  
Willow's eyes never left the ghost but Dawn involuntarily looked past her. All she saw was grass and woods.   
  
"There are six of us here. We cannot go on until...until you uncover our bodies. That's all I ask of you," said Buffy, her hands outstretched by her hips.   
  
"Why should we trust you?" demanded Willow, her voice only a little less threatening now.   
  
"Because one of them is an eight year old girl who has known nothing but sheer terror for almost six months. She doesn't understand what's happened to her. All she knows is that she wants her mother."   
  
Buffy paused, watching Willow.   
  
"Because every one of these people lived in your home town, murdered by the same vampire. They don't seek justice, they don't want revenge...they just want peace. Can you understand that?" asked Buffy, anger evident for the first time in her voice.   
  
"You're not playing fair," pouted Willow, finally looking away from Buffy.   
  
"Willow, we have to..."   
  
"I know," sighed Willow, again putting her arm around Dawn. "I know."   
  
"Can you show us where the graves are?" asked Willow.   
  
Buffy smiled.   
  
"Yes. And I am sorry."   
  
"Whatever," sighed Tara.   
  
"There's one more...complication," said Buffy.   
  
"Why am I not surprised?" said Tara, shaking her head.   
  
"Tara," whispered Willow. But when she looked back at Buffy there was an edge to her voice.   
  
"What is it?"   
  
"I told you the truth before, about uncovering the graves. The families would have the body and perhaps closure, but the spirit, the essence of that person would have no rest. Unless..."   
  
"Go on," encouraged Willow.   
  
"Unless you call that person's name out loud before you uncover the remains," interjected Anya, walking over to them. "You then experience how that person died, allowing the ghost to move on, to find peace. It doesn't take long, but it's not very pleasant."   
  
Willow, Tara and Dawn all looked at Anya, shocked.   
  
"You knew that. And you were going to tell us when?" asked Willow.   
  
"Hey, I've seen a lot a things in my time! I didn't think of it because I thought it was Buffy. Because I trusted her," glared Anya.   
  
"Is that true, what she said?" asked Tara. Buffy nodded.   
  
"And I have no right to ask you to do this. Remember how they died? It won't be a pleasant experience," added Buffy.   
  
"Faith. You were afraid of Faith because...because a vampire killed you!" said Dawn.   
  
"Killed all of us. And took great pleasure in it. I imagine he's dead now or moved on. The little girl was his last victim. It's been six months and he hasn't been back," shrugged Buffy. "Why is a vampire your friend? I don't understand."   
  
"For one thing, she's not like the others. She has a soul. I'm beginning to wonder if you do," snapped Tara.   
  
"I need to talk to the others first," said Willow.   
  
"Of course. There are six of you, so no one would have to go through this more than once," said Buffy.   
  
"Wrong. Dawn's not involved," warned Willow.   
  
"And, um, I don't think we can count on Giles," winced Anya.   
  
"What do you mean?" asked Willow.   
  
"I, I don't know. Something happened when he realized that Buffy wasn't...Buffy. I think he's in shock. He keeps saying Faith's name, over and over," sighed Anya.   
  
"Faith! Willow, the spell! You did that spell on her," shouted Tara. Willow's eyes opened wide.   
  
"And I left the talisman back in Dawn's room! Shit!"   
  
Willow looked over at Xander. He stared back, shaking his head.   
  
"Xander, drive Giles back to the house, he can't stay here. And there's a thin piece of leather with a strand of hair wrapped around it. I left it on Dawn's bed. You need to cut it in half with a knife to break the spell, understand?"   
  
Xander nodded and helped Giles to his feet.   
  
"I'll be back as quick as I can," said Xander.   
  
"Willow, what did the spell do?" asked Dawn anxiously.   
  
"It's okay, Dawnie. It simply made any dead around Faith more aware of her. But she'll be fine. She's a Slayer. Maybe, maybe there aren't even any near her," smiled Willow.   
  
Dawn slowly turned to look at Buffy.   
  
"I didn't know. I thought Buffy was the Slayer," whispered Buffy. "Dawn, she's a vampire. How could I know?"   
  
END OF PART NINE


	10. Ten

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART TEN   
  
Dawn stood by the edge of the lake, simply staring out at the little wisps of fog that gently curled above the water. She heard Willow approaching but didn't turn around to face her. Crossing her arms more out of defiance than from being cold, Dawn tilted her head just a little more away from her so that Willow couldn't see her face. Willow pulled off her windbreaker and slipped it over Dawn's shoulders.   
  
"I reached out to her. You know, telepathically. But she must be too far away," sighed Willow. Dawn ignored her.   
  
"Dawn, she'll be okay."   
  
"Will she? Faith doesn't know that it wasn't Buffy telling her those things. But she knew, right from the start she knew it wasn't her. And none of us would listen. We...we just all wanted it to be Buffy."   
  
Dawn finally turned to face Willow and tried to stay angry but Willow saw how badly she was hurting.   
  
"Willow, do you know what we did to Faith? Do you?" asked Dawn, her voice breaking.   
  
"Not we, Dawnie. Me. It's my fault," said Willow, hugging her. Dawn hesitated but then threw her arms around Willow.   
  
"So why are we helping this...Karen, or whoever she is? I say let her rot in the ground!"   
  
Willow gently pulled away from Dawn and looked right into her eyes.   
  
"You don't think I didn't consider that? But, well, Karen...she was desperate. And it's not like she was thinking of herself. The others..."   
  
"Yeah. Whatever," snapped Dawn, looking away again.   
  
Before Willow could answer her they noticed Anya stumbling towards them out of the woods, dragging the shovel behind her. Buffy was trailing behind, head down and every step an effort as if she were wading through water.   
  
"Why did Anya want to go first?" whispered Dawn.   
  
"Well, think about it. She witnessed a lot of pain and suffering during her demon days. Hell, she probably caused most of it. So if the experience is too much for her..."   
  
"Then how would any of us get through it," nodded Dawn.   
  
"Not us, Dawnie. I don't want you involved," said Willow.   
  
"But..."   
  
"Anya? Are you okay?" called Willow.   
  
Anya looked up but didn't answer right away. Her face was pale. She dropped the shovel and, wiping tears from her eyes with one hand, glanced at Dawn but spoke to Willow. Tara quickly walked over to them from under the beech tree.   
  
"Dawn can't do this," said Anya. "She can't."   
  
"Can we?" asked Willow apprehensively. Anya hesitated, then nodded.   
  
"I think so. You...to connect with them, you must feel what they felt. When they died. But to set them free, you have to let go of the grief. They need your anger then, not your pity. I guess that's how it works. Remember that. And keep calling out their name. Somehow it seems to keep the darkness away. It's, um, not very pleasant," winced Anya.   
  
"I'm sorry," sighed Buffy. "There's no other way."   
  
"Buffy...I mean, Karen...are you alright?" asked Willow.   
  
"Yeah. Just tired. But I can't go, not yet. The night grows thin and I can't appear to you after sunrise. I just don't know if I could make it back in time," said Buffy, looking up at the stars. She turned towards Anya. "Thank you, Anya."   
  
Anya gave a half-hearted smile and walked over to sit under the beech tree. Even from here they could hear her stifling a cry. Buffy looked first at Tara, then at Willow, wondering who would go next.   
  
"I'll go," announced Willow. Buffy didn't smile, she simply nodded. Then she turned her head towards Dawn. Dawn quickly turned her back on her.   
  
"Don't even look at me!" yelled Dawn. "You're not my sister."   
  
"No. I'm not."   
  
"So how do you know all this stuff about us?" sniffed Dawn, covering her mouth with a hand.   
  
"I touched Buffy. Something happens...I, I can't explain it. Dawn, she was here. And I can draw things from you, from the others. I didn't mean to..."   
  
"Well, you did!" barked Dawn, walking away to stand by the edge of the water again.   
  
Willow sighed but didn't go over to comfort Dawn.   
  
"Tara, we don't have much time. Stay with her while I'm gone," said Willow. Tara nodded.   
  
"After you," said Willow, extending her hand towards the woods as she looked at Buffy. Willow glanced back once as she followed Buffy into the shadows.   
  
"Love you too," whispered Tara to herself, staring after them.   
  
*****   
  
Faith kicked the double doors open and pulled Matthieu in after her. Pat pushed the doors shut and looked around. Three steps led up into the building and a wooden hand rail was bracketed into the wall to her left. She kicked the rail, splintering it free from the wall and quickly slid it through the door handles. Pat leaned up with one hand against the door and one hand pressed into her side, catching her breath.   
  
"Pat?" said Faith.   
  
"That won't hold them very long. Probably slow 'em down, though, buy us some time," said Pat through clenched teeth. She slid her hand down off the door and turned to face Faith.   
  
"Pat, you're..."   
  
"It's nothing," answered Pat.   
  
Faith looked at the door behind Pat. There was a bloody handprint on the wood. She met Pat's eyes but Pat looked away.   
  
"Let me see," said Faith.   
  
"Hey, I'm fine. Bastard had a knife and I slipped in the sand. He got lucky, is all," shrugged Pat.   
  
"And not to sound ungrateful, but if you hadn't been so worried about my ass he never would've stabbed you," said Matthieu.   
  
"Um, he meant protecting his ass, Faith. I wasn't checking him out," laughed Pat, immediately wincing in pain.   
  
Faith stepped over to her and gently pulled away Pat's hand from her side. Her shirt was bloody and even though the wound wasn't deep it was long and Faith could see the bone of a rib. Matthieu slipped off his leather jacket and pulled his T shirt over his head. He folded it into a square and pressed it against Pat's side, pushing her hand onto it.   
  
"Come sit down and press this against it," said Matthieu. Pat reluctantly nodded and let Matthieu help her over to the first bench. They both looked back when they realized that Faith hadn't followed them.   
  
"Faith?" called Matthieu.   
  
Faith stood there, studying her surroundings.   
  
"You okay?" asked Pat.   
  
"I guess. I don't know, I'm a little uncomfortable here," winced Faith.   
  
"Yeah, me too. Hey, I haven't been to church in years either. It's...oh, you mean uncomfortable in a different way," said Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah. It's like I can't breathe," said Faith.   
  
"Faith, you can't breathe," reminded Matthieu.   
  
"Yeah...whatever. But it feels like I'm suffocating," said Faith absently. She looked past them down the center aisle of the church. A large wooden cross hung from the ceiling above the altar.   
  
"Matthieu, go check the back door. Even if it's locked, prop a chair up against it or something. I'd go, but..." said Faith, glancing up at the cross.   
  
"Sure," he answered, grabbing his jacket as he turned to go but hesitating in the dark.   
  
"And no, you can't put any lights on," added Faith. "In fact, stay back there. Just yell if you hear anything."   
  
"So I'm what, a watchdog?" he teased.   
  
"Matthieu," warned Faith.   
  
"I'm going," he laughed. Faith sat down next to Pat.   
  
"I'm fine," complained Pat before Faith could say anything.   
  
"Thanks. For looking out for him. Sorry it got you distracted," sighed Faith.   
  
"No big. You know, that was a strange fight. When the second group caught up with us, it was like they were ignoring me and concentrating on you," said Pat. "You notice that?"   
  
"Well, I was kinda busy at the time, what with me doing all the fighting. But yeah, that was strange. Didn't look like they planned it or anything," frowned Faith.   
  
Matthieu checked the doors again, having wedged a metal folding chair across the push bars. And just in time. Someone, or something, was tugging at the outside handle trying to get in.   
  
"Rut row," muttered Matthieu.   
  
Just then the girls heard a loud crash from in back of the church.   
  
"Stay!" barked Faith, already running down the aisle and avoiding looking up. By the time she reached Matthieu, Spike had already stood up. He glanced back at the stained glass lying about the floor.   
  
"Never did care for that particular saint,' shrugged Spike. "Sorry 'bout the window."   
  
"Spike, what the hell..."   
  
"Save the small talk for later, Faith. Not sure why, but you're attracting the undead like honey to a bee," said Spike, brushing off his duster.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"There's that word again. Look, I can't explain it. All I know is that I was drawn here like a, a...oh, sod it, I'm here, aren't I? It's like you're sending out a signal or something."   
  
"Huh?"   
  
Spike rolled his eyes.   
  
"In here," said Spike, pointing to his head. "I can hear you, in here."   
  
Faith's eyes opened wide.   
  
"Willow! She must be doing a spell. But, why?" shrugged Faith.   
  
"Guess she doesn't want you bothering her while she's...doing whatever she's doing," suggested Matthieu.   
  
"People, let's get back inside before company arrives and grab some weapons," said Spike.   
  
"Matthieu, there's a font by the altar. I'm sure there's holy water in it. See if you can find a cup or, or something you can..."   
  
"Gotcha," he nodded, heading back.   
  
"Pat's here," said Spike, a statement more than a question.   
  
"Yeah. But she's hurt."   
  
"So I smelled. Bad?" asked Spike.   
  
"She can fight," replied Faith. "And you better go bust up a chair or two for stakes. We've got company."   
  
*****   
  
"Okay, Giles, have a seat here," said Xander, guiding Giles over to the sofa. He offered no resistance as Xander pushed him down.   
  
"I've got to run upstairs, Giles. I'll only be a minute."   
  
Giles stared blankly at the floor in front of him as if Xander wasn't even in the room.   
  
"You need anything?" asked Xander.   
  
Giles didn't even blink. Xander sighed and turned for the stairs.   
  
"I'm going to be famous."   
  
Xander turned back, more confused than worried now.   
  
"What's that?" said Xander.   
  
"Think about it. Oh, sure, every Watcher eventually loses their Slayer. Not exactly unexpected, you know. And then they just...fade away...forgotten. You see, we're expected to fail," laughed Giles, still staring at nothing.   
  
"Giles..."   
  
"Ah, but to lose two Slayers! That takes some considerable doing, you see. No, they won't soon forget the name of Rupert Giles anytime soon," smiled Giles. "No indeed."   
  
Xander knelt down beside him and awkwardly put a hand on his arm.   
  
"Giles, you didn't lose Faith. She's tough. Besides, it's not like you lied to her. Karen did and we all thought it was Buffy. We needed it to be her," said Xander soothingly. Giles slowly turned his head and looked at Xander's hand on his arm. He looked up, even more confused and lost than before.   
  
"But I did. I did. I made her cry," winced Giles.   
  
"Why don't you lay down, try to get some sleep?" suggested Xander with a smile. Giles lowered his head and stared at the floor again. Xander stood up, shaking his head.   
  
"Oh, Faith, what have I done?" whispered Giles.   
  
"I'll be right back," promised Xander, reluctant to leave. Again Giles didn't seem to hear him.   
  
*****   
  
The vampire exploded into ash before her. Faith spun, looking for another, but the were alone for the moment. And then she heard them pounding at the front door.   
  
"Spike, I'm taking this fight outside. It's me they want."   
  
"You can't go out there alone!" yelled Pat.   
  
"She won't be alone," answered Spike, running to join her. "You're holding your own, Slayer, but you're hurt. Now do as you're told!"   
  
Faith looked at Matthieu. He knew better than to argue.   
  
"Don't worry, I'll protect her," said Matthieu, nodding towards Pat. Faith smiled.   
  
"Go already!" snapped Pat, rolling her eyes.   
  
Faith stepped through the broken window and Spike followed her. Back to back they moved cautiously through a small cemetery that ran alongside the church. Two vampires, both young girls, came running around the side of the church, both coming straight for Faith. Spike stepped out in front to cut one of them off and she tried to run around him, not even looking at him.   
  
Spike simply stuck his arm out and the girl ran into it, immediately being dropped onto her back. She was staked before she could lift her head off the ground.   
  
The other vampire ran straight at Faith and, enraged, tried to tackle her. Faith ducked and flipped the girl over her shoulders. She landed on her back right across the top of a tombstone. Writhing on the ground in pain, the vampire couldn't defend herself and was easily staked.   
  
"This has been one hell of a party, but despite all the fun I'm having it's beginning to get old!" yelled Spike.   
  
Faith nodded in agreement. She and Spike then looked at one another, hearing a noise. Looking down, the saw the grass behind Faith begin to move.   
  
"That's an old grave for a vampire to rise from, isn't it?" asked Faith, stake ready in her hand.   
  
"Too old," replied Spike, staring at the ground.   
  
As they expected, first one hand and then another broke free from the earth. It pulled itself free and opened its mouth but no sound came forth from the desiccated skull. Faith raised her stake but Spike grabbed her arm.   
  
"It's not a vampire," he warned. With a deliberate kick he smashed the skull free from its body. And still the corpse clawed its way towards them.   
  
"That's it! Next time I see Red I'm gonna smack that witch upside her head!" shouted Faith.   
  
"Come on, let's get back inside," said Spike, pulling on her arm.   
  
Faith ran ahead of Spike and was almost splashed with holy water by Matthieu. She smiled at his embarrassment.   
  
"Okay, time for plan B. Willow's spell makes me the center of attention so I want you two to get back to Matthieu's bike and get outta Dodge. Find Willow and let her know she's gotta end this mojo. Spike and I can keep them at bay until dawn," said Faith.   
  
"We can?" whined Spike, ignoring Faith's glare. Pat and Matthieu looked at one another.   
  
"Hey, we're not voting on this. There's a lull in the action so get while the gettin is good," warned Faith. "How's the wound?"   
  
"Not even bleeding anymore," lied Pat. "Come on, Matthieu, I can tell when we're not wanted."   
  
Matthieu hesitated. And then Faith walked over to him and, on tiptoe, kissed him.   
  
"Time's wasting. You and me, tomorrow night. I'll make all this up to you. I promise," winked Faith.   
  
"I'll hold you to that. And don't worry about Pat, I'll keep an eye on her," smiled Matthieu.   
  
Faith stepped outside with them and watched until they disappeared from view.   
  
*****   
  
Xander bounded up the stairs two at a time, then slapped his forehead and ran back into the kitchen to get a knife. He glanced at Giles as he went past but the Watcher was as he had left him, just staring out at nothing. Giles' lips were moving but no words came out. Shaking his head, Xander made it to Dawn's room and easily found the leather piece on the bed.   
  
Tossing it onto the floor, Xander cut cleanly through the hide with the knife. The room seemed somehow not as cold as a moment before. He smiled and ran from the room, leaving the knife on the floor.   
  
"Giles? Hey, I have to get back to the others, okay? They need my help. I'll be back as fast as I can. Just...sit," said Xander. He wasn't sure but Giles may have nodded. Xander shook his head again and slammed the door shut behind him as he left.   
  
Giles sat there for a moment, hearing the car start up and then drive off. He stood up, looking around as if he just remembered where he was.   
  
Giles didn't slam the door when he left. He just shut it quietly.   
  
*****   
  
Spike and Faith sat on the front steps of the church. It was quiet. Too quiet.   
  
"Maybe we should start walking back," said Faith. "Looks like we're fresh out of vampires."   
  
Spike stared at her, then squinted at her.   
  
"What?" asked Faith.   
  
"I can't...I mean, I'm not drawn to you anymore. The spell...I don't think it just ended, but it kind of faded away, you know?" said Spike.   
  
"So to another passing vampire I'm...just another passing vampire. No heartbeat," smiled Faith. Her smile quickly faded.   
  
"Heartbeats. If they were drawn here...Spike, we should've heard that motorcycle by now!" yelled Faith, running before Spike even realized she had stood.   
  
"Bloody hell," muttered Spike as he tried to catch up with her.   
  
*****   
  
Willow emerged from woods alone, not even carrying the shovel. Tara ran to her and caught her as she stumbled. Willow's face was pale and her eyes were once again black.   
  
"Willow, are you...oh, honey. Your eyes," winced Tara.   
  
"My...oh. Sorry. That was...intense," swallowed Willow. "I'm okay, Tara."   
  
Dawn and Anya ran over to them.   
  
"There were two. In the same grave. A, a couple, I think. No, I know. They were together," nodded Willow. "But I freed them both. You don't just experience their death. You know them, become them, know what they'll never have."   
  
Willow looked down and shook her head.   
  
"Where's Buf...I mean, Karen?" asked Anya.   
  
"I left her there. I think she's too tired to move, if that makes sense. She's easier to see through now. The girl's name was Ashley. She, she said she smelled apple pie, just before she left. And she smiled for me," said Willow, smiling herself before beginning to cry. She buried her face in Tara's shoulder.   
  
They heard footsteps running towards them and looked up to see Xander, panting for breath.   
  
"Come on, Xander. There's only three left. And we don't have much time," sighed Tara.   
  
*****   
  
Even before the made it back to the beach they saw Pat running towards them.   
  
"Faith! He's on the beach. I'm taking the bike. I'll get help," said Pat, painfully holding her side and out of breath.   
  
Faith just stood there, staring past her, not moving, not blinking.   
  
"What happened?" demanded Spike.   
  
"There were three of them. I killed two but...they had weapons. Matthieu, he...he did kill the last one," winced Pat, looking down at the blood on her hand. "Spike, there's no time for this! I gotta go!"   
  
Spike reached out and grabbed her arm as she tried to go.   
  
"Spike, what are you..."   
  
"You're right. There's no time," he whispered.   
  
Pat looked at him and then watched as Faith began to slowly walk away.   
  
"We can hear his heartbeat, remember?" said Spike.   
  
"No," gasped Pat, shaking her head. "Faith, wait!"   
  
Faith stopped but didn't turn around.   
  
"Faith, I'm sorry. I did everything I could. I tried," cried Pat.   
  
"I know. It's not your fault," answered Faith flatly, her voice tiny.   
  
"Faith, it will be light soon," reminded Spike. Faith simply nodded.   
  
"Faith, you're not going to..."   
  
Pat didn't finish, feeling Spike grip her arm tighter.   
  
"We'll leave you the bike. That'll buy you some more time. Faith. Don't do anything stupid," said Spike. Faith turned her head to face them.   
  
"Too late. I already have," she smiled. And then she walked away from them.   
  
"Spike, you don't think she'll..."   
  
"She'll what? Wait for the sun? I haven't a clue. Let's just leave them alone, shall we? It's not our decision."   
  
Spike looked at her, inhaling the sweet smell of her blood.   
  
"Can you walk?" he asked.   
  
"Yeah," nodded Pat. "Let's go. But you try to lick my hand and you won't be able to walk."   
  
Spike didn't smile. He looked up at Pat and nodded.   
  
"Pat, it's a long walk and we'd better get going," said Spike, looking up at the sky. "Need to get you to a hospital. If you need some help along the way, you don't have to ask."   
  
Pat stared at him for a moment, shocked at him even using her name.   
  
"Thank you," she nodded.   
  
"Hey, it doesn't mean I'm going to carry you the whole bleedin' way," snapped Spike. Pat smiled. Looking back over her shoulder, they left Faith alone with Matthieu.   
  
*****   
  
"What's taking them so long!" complained Anya, pacing back and forth. Dawn and Willow just looked at her helplessly.   
  
"Anya, they'll be back soon," tried Willow.   
  
"I can't stand it! I didn't take this long and, and neither did you! Maybe Xander's in trouble. Maybe...oh, I don't want wait any longer. I'm going to find him," said Anya.   
  
"Anya, no! Anya!"   
  
Willow went running after Anya, leaving Dawn all alone. It only took a moment for her to realize just how alone she was. Dawn slowly turned, looking at the woods around her, listening...and coming face to face with Buffy. Startled, she jumped but didn't cry out. Buffy was fading, barely visible.   
  
"It's over. The others can rest now," said Buffy, her voice sounding distant.   
  
"Over? But there's one more grave. Hey, it's your grave!" said Dawn..   
  
"Yes, but you'll never find it. I have to go now Dawn. I just wanted to tell you, to try to make you understand how sorry I am. I, I needed your help. But that's not good enough. I know now that they would've helped me. I lied to Willow. But what I did to Giles...no, that's unforgivable."   
  
"Giles? What did you do? Karen, what did you do?" asked Dawn anxiously.   
  
"I made him feel the hatred I held for the thing that killed me. The thing that Faith is. I couldn't see past that. He believed my lies and he trusted me...because he thought I was Buffy. I'm sorry. Those words can't make up for what I've done."   
  
"So you're going to punish yourself by not letting us help you?" asked Dawn. Buffy stared at her a moment, looking like she might cry.   
  
"I believe your sister is at peace, Dawn. She's not in pain. Take comfort in that."   
  
"No, Karen, don't go! Please!"   
  
Buffy faded away. Dawn was alone.   
  
*****   
  
"Oh, Matthieu! What the hell did you think you were doing?" winced Faith as she knelt down beside him.   
  
"Bitch snuck up behind me," gasped Matthieu, both hands clutching a wooden stake protruding out from his ribcage. There was blood everywhere. Too much blood.   
  
"No," whimpered Faith, shaking her head.   
  
"Hey, it's okay...I dusted her...turned around and tackled her...she went for my neck and I hugged her...should've seen the expression on her face," smiled Matthieu.   
  
Faith didn't hear a word of what he was saying but clung to the sound of his voice.   
  
"Impaled on her own stake," laughed Matthieu. His laughter broke into weak coughing and his eyes closed tightly in pain.   
  
Faith gently eased his head into her lap.   
  
"Guess this doesn't look good, huh?" whispered Matthieu, not opening his eyes.   
  
"It's okay, Matthieu. I'm here. I won't...I won't leave you. I'm here," repeated Faith, fighting back tears as she ran her hand through his hair.   
  
Matthieu opened his eyes and stared unfocused at Faith's face.   
  
"Faith, I'm...am I going to die?" he asked calmly.   
  
Faith barely nodded.   
  
"Your heartbeat, it's, it's too weak. You've lost too much blood. Oh, Matthieu, I told you this would happen. I told you..."   
  
"Hey. It's not your fault. It was my choice. Mine!"   
  
"But you didn't know. You had no idea what you were getting into," protested Faith, tears now running down her cheeks.   
  
"Faith, listen to me..."   
  
"It is my fault! It is!" yelled Faith. "You can't trust people. I shoulda learned that by now. Giles...Willow...me."   
  
"You?"   
  
"I, I promised to protect you. I did. And look!"   
  
"Faith!" said Matthieu loudly, too weak to yell and wincing with the effort.   
  
He had her attention now.   
  
"We can still be together. You know..."   
  
Matthieu swallowed before he continued.   
  
"You know what you have to do."   
  
Faith visibly stiffened.   
  
"No. No, you have no idea what you are asking of me!"   
  
"Yes, I do. I'll be like you. Why..."   
  
"No, you won't!" yelled Faith, sliding his head onto the ground and inching away from him.   
  
"But..."   
  
"No! I can't change you. Not the way you think," whispered Faith, her eyes pleading.   
  
Matthieu knotted his eyebrows together, not understanding.   
  
"The vampire that turned me, he had a soul."   
  
"And so do you," countered Matthieu.   
  
"But if I turned you...Matthieu, you wouldn't have a soul. I don't have that ability. You would be just another demon, like the things we kill. Worse yet...even worse, I would lose my soul if I turned you. Please, don't ask me to do this," begged Faith.   
  
"How can you be sure? And, and even if it were true, we'd be together, you and I. Spike doesn't have a soul...and he's okay, right? Faith...do you love me?" asked Matthieu, letting go of the stake and trying to rise up on his elbows.   
  
"I do," sniffed Faith. "And that's why I can't help you. I can't."   
  
Matthieu gave up trying to get up and collapsed onto his back. Faith looked up at the sky then knelt beside him and gently slipped her arms under him.   
  
"Let's get you back to that church, okay? That way I can stay with you," comforted Faith. She had barely lifted him when he screamed out in agony. Faith eased him back down onto the sand.   
  
"Damn. I'm sorry, Matty. I shouldn't have...oh, damn it!" whispered Faith. She cupped his face in her hands. It took almost a minute before he could speak again.   
  
"Faith, you're going to be all alone. Is that what you want?" gasped Matthieu.   
  
"I've always been alone. Always."   
  
"Faith...I don't want to die. I'm, I'm scared," whispered Matthieu, tears in his eyes now.   
  
"I know. Been there, done that," laughed Faith, immediately beginning to cry.   
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to..."   
  
He didn't finish what he was going to say. Faith was sobbing, her body shaking.   
  
"You'd better go. It will be light soon," sighed Matthieu.   
  
"No. No, I'll stay," said Faith, reaching out and grabbing his hand.   
  
"Faith, it doesn't hurt as much. But the sun will rise before I'm dead."   
  
He tried to grip her hand tightly but she barely felt his feeble attempt.   
  
"I, I don't want you to be alone," cried Faith painfully. "No one should be alone."   
  
Matthieu smiled.   
  
"Then take my blood."   
  
Faith looked at him and glanced up at the sky again.   
  
"That's the way I'd like to go...in your arms. Please, Faith...you said you loved me...something...something to remember me by. And I won't...be...alone."   
  
Matthieu lay his head back. His eyes stared vacantly outward, unfocused. Faith quickly leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. But he didn't respond. His heartbeat still echoed in her ears as Faith's face morphed into the animal that she was. Her lips trembling on his, she pulled away and quickly bit into his neck before she could change her mind.   
  
Any passion, any pleasure that the moment should've brought was lost in the overwhelming pain Faith felt. It was over. She pulled away, eyes closed, her body shaking. Hugging him one last time, not once looking upon Matthieu's still face, she wondered what would happen if she forced him to drink from her. More than wondered. Faith was tempted.   
  
"Spike doesn't have a soul...and he's okay, right? Faith...do you love me?"   
  
Matthieu's words haunted her. Slowly she raised her hands, bloody and trembling, and covered her face. Faith felt more than alone. Faith was scared, terrified of what was going to happen next.   
  
*****   
  
Spike was making his way back to his crypt when he stopped and looked around the cemetery as if he had heard something. No, as if he had sensed something. Even before he got to her grave he suspected what he might find.   
  
Giles was asleep, curled up into a fetal position on Buffy's grave. An empty bottle lay off to one side. Spike sadly shook his head, glancing towards the eastern horizon. He knelt down beside Giles and shook his shoulder but got no response.   
  
"Come on, Rupert, you'll have to sleep this one off with me. No time to get you home now," said Spike, lifting Giles up in his arms.   
  
"You know, we have to stop meeting like this. People will talk. Mind you, I have a reputation to think of."   
  
END OF PART TEN


	11. Eleven

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART ELEVEN   
  
Dawn was sitting under the beech tree when the others got back. Xander was trying to look brave but Dawn could tell that he was badly shaken. Tara and Willow were holding hands but it was more like Willow was pulling her along.   
  
"Well, that's one pair of underwear I can throw out," said Xander. No one laughed. "Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood."   
  
"Where's Karen?" asked Willow.   
  
"She's gone," sighed Dawn.   
  
"But, but we haven't helped her yet!" said Willow.   
  
"I don't think she wants our help. She's having a major guilt trip over what she did, how she fooled us. This is her way of punishing herself," shrugged Dawn.   
  
"Maybe we can find her grave on our own?" suggested Xander. He saw the doubt on everyone's face. "No, I don't suppose we could."   
  
"She said we'd never find it," frowned Dawn.   
  
"I noticed that she kept glancing at the lake but wouldn't really look at it. I wonder if she's out there somewhere," said Tara, looking out at the water.   
  
"Hence the never finding," added Xander.   
  
"Guys, we've got to find Faith. She doesn't know it wasn't Buffy," said Dawn.   
  
"Um, Dawn? It'll be light soon," frowned Anya, still clinging to Xander's arm.   
  
"I don't care," replied Dawn firmly. "And Xander, how was Giles when you left him? Karen was major wigged about what she did to him."   
  
"What she did? She only lied to him, right?" asked Willow.   
  
"He seemed a little dazed, but...well, let's go see. Someone should stay at the house in case Faith comes back anyway," said Xander.   
  
"What do you mean dazed? He didn't say anything?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Uh, he did mumble something about being famous for being the only Watcher to lose two Slayers. Giles wasn't making much sense, Dawn," said Xander.   
  
"Yes, he was," sighed Dawn.   
  
Dawn looked back at the lake one last time before they left.   
  
*****   
  
The sound of the motorcycle woke Tara. She had dozed off on the sofa. It took a moment but then she remembered that she was alone. Xander and Anya had taken the car to look for Giles, Dawn had insisted on going with Willow to look for Faith.   
  
"Matthieu?" she said, getting up and running to the door.   
  
There was a faint tapping on the front door. Tara wasn't even sure that she had heard it. Cautiously she eased the door open and he eyes grew wide in surprise. Faith stood there, eyes unfocused as if she wasn't aware of where she was and swaying unsteadily on her feet. Her chin, her cheeks, her hands all were covered in blood.   
  
"Faith! Are, are you hurt?"   
  
"Can I come in?" whispered Faith, not looking at Tara's face.   
  
"You...you don't need an invite. Dawn's already welcomed you in. Faith, the sun's coming up. You'd better..."   
  
"Can I come in?" repeated Faith flatly.   
  
Tara noticed that smoke was rising from Faith's back so she grabbed her wrist and forcefully pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind them. Faith stumbled over to the nearest wall, put her back against it and slid down into a sitting position.   
  
"Faith..."   
  
"I, I know I could come in...but I didn't know...if I was welcome. If I was wanted," added Faith, looking up blankly at Tara. Tara knelt down beside her and gently put a hand on Faith's arm, trying not to stare at the blood on Faith's mouth.   
  
"I...I didn't know where to go," said Faith, wrapping her arms around herself.   
  
"Faith, tell me what happened."   
  
Faith's face scrunched up in pain and her lower lip began to tremble. Soon her entire body began to shake. Tara winced in sympathy but couldn't take her eyes from the blood on Faith's mouth.   
  
"Did...did you kill someone?" asked Tara softly.   
  
Faith nodded twice very slowly and began to cry. Tara turned and sat down beside her, putting her arm across her shoulders.   
  
"Okay, we'll deal with this. Everything's going to work out, you'll see," comforted Tara.   
  
"You...you don't understand," mumbled Faith.   
  
"No, no of course I can't. But I, I can help," offered Tara, wishing very much that Willow or Dawn was here now. Or even Anya. "I know, let's call Matthieu. I'm sure he'll come over and..."   
  
Faith's eyes froze Tara with a mixture of terror and ache. Tara pulled her arm away from Faith without realizing she had done it.   
  
"No," whispered Tara. "Faith...no. You didn't."   
  
Faith pulled her knees up into her chest and hid her face in her hands, her body rocked by silent sobs as she fought for control. And fighting every instinct her body demanded, the revulsion, the overwhelming urge to simply run out that door...Tara stiffly reached over and pulled Faith to her, holding the Slayer's head against her warm body. Faith resisted at first but then gave in and desperately clung to Tara, letting the tears free. Tara bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, shaking her head.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Faith," was all she could manage.   
  
"You...you don't understand. He was going to die. I, I couldn't wait...the sun...he didn't want to be alone. Tara, he didn't...he was so scared," sobbed Faith.   
  
"Faith, you didn't...what I mean is, um...is he...Faith. Did you turn him?" asked Tara, closing her eyes for strength but quickly opening them.   
  
Faith slowly pulled away, afraid to look at her.   
  
"Faith, you didn't," winced Tara.   
  
Faith raised her eyes, meeting Tara's. The fear was gone. Tara only saw sadness and pain. Faith slowly shook her head.   
  
"No. But I wanted to. I so wanted to," whispered Faith. Tara held her arms open again and Faith fell into them.   
  
"The others are so worried. They're out there looking for you, right now. I'm sure they'll be back soon," said Tara. "Faith, it wasn't her. It wasn't Buffy."   
  
Faith lifted her head, sniffed and looked at Tara.   
  
"It wasn't her. It was a ghost and, and she was afraid of you. Because a vampire killed her. But it wasn't Buffy," smiled Tara. "So all those things she said? None of it was true. It wasn't Buffy."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"She needed our help. To find others who were killed with her. We freed them, but...but she didn't tell us where she was buried. I think she's having some regrets," sighed Tara.   
  
Faith shook her head and leaned back against the wall.   
  
"Faith, how did Matthieu die? Can...can you talk about it? Do you want to?"   
  
Faith violently shook her head.   
  
"Where's his...where is he?" whispered Tara.   
  
"On the beach. Oh, Tara! I didn't even have time to bury him. He's still there...just laying there," sniffed Faith.   
  
"As soon as they get back we'll go out there. We'll take care of him," promised Tara.   
  
Faith stopped crying. She stared coldly at Tara.   
  
"Why did Willow do that spell? What was it meant to do?" asked Faith slowly and evenly.   
  
"Oh, um, it was just to keep you busy. So that you wouldn't try to stop us."   
  
Tara waited for a reaction from Faith but she just kept staring back at her.   
  
"Any undead near you would be attracted to you. Well, you are the Slayer and..."   
  
Tara stopped talking. Faith was no longer upset. She was grinding her teeth. She was angry. Very angry.   
  
"Matthieu was with you," whispered Tara.   
  
"Yes, he was. Wow, it didn't occur to anyone that he might be with me?" glared Faith.   
  
Tara swallowed and stared at Faith but she couldn't say anything.   
  
"That's right, Tara. Your girlfriend killed him, no different than if she had slit his throat with her own hand."   
  
Tara began to shiver, suddenly very afraid of the girl sitting next to her.   
  
"F-F-Faith, she, she didn't kn-know," gasped Tara.   
  
Faith's eyes grew wide with the realization that Tara was terrified of her. No, not of her but of what she might do. Faith slowly closed her eyes and turned her back to Tara to hide her face.   
  
"Faith?" whispered Tara, afraid to even move.   
  
"It's just like before. You fear me."   
  
Tara didn't say anything, both out of fear and out of shame, knowing Faith was right. The front door burst open and Dawn ran in.   
  
"Tara, I saw the bike...Faith! You're..."   
  
Dawn took a step towards Faith and froze, thrown both by the blood on Faith's face and how Tara was cowering next to her. She glanced at Tara's neck and was relieved to see that Faith hadn't bit her. And she looked down for a moment, mortified that she could think Faith might harm Tara. The look wasn't lost on Faith. She understood.   
  
Faith slowly stood up.   
  
"Faith," said Dawn, taking another step towards her. But Faith was ignoring Dawn. She was staring at Willow with a hatred so intent and obvious that Willow took a step back so that she would be in the morning sun.   
  
Faith calmly walked past Dawn and stopped in front of Willow, eyes never leaving the witch. Licking the blood on the palm of her hand, she spit on the ground at Willow's feet and then turned and walked up the stairs to her room.   
  
Willow looked at Dawn and then they both looked at Tara.   
  
"Matthieu's dead," announced Tara, leaning her head back against the wall. Willow's mouth dropped open and she looked up at the top of the stairs.   
  
"No. No!" cried Dawn. Willow reached out to try to stop her but Dawn broke free and ran upstairs.   
  
"Dawn, wait!"   
  
Willow looked back at Tara as she stood up.   
  
"Tara, what happened?"   
  
Tara wouldn't look at her. She turned around and walked into the kitchen.   
  
"Tara?"   
  
*****   
  
"Is he drunk?" asked Pat.   
  
"No. The doctor believes he's in shock. Physically he's fine. What he needs is to rest. It's been a long time since Rupert has had a vacation. I think he's earned one, don't you?" asked Quentin Travers.   
  
Pat ignored him. Instead she watched as Xander sat on the couch next to Giles, trying for conversation but for the most part simply talking to himself.   
  
"A couple of weeks back home is what he needs. You'll see. Funny, isn't it?" asked Travers.   
  
"Funny?" repeated Pat out of the side of her mouth. "What could possibly be funny?"   
  
"Yes. The Council was right about Giles. He sorely needed a rest. All this intrigue and scheming about how they might, ah, encourage him to retire. They got what they wanted without having to implement any of their plans. Life is funny that way sometimes."   
  
"Their plans?" said Pat coldly.   
  
"Yes, their plans. Oh, come now. Surely you don't think I had anything to do with this childish scheming? Rupert and I go way back," smiled Travers.   
  
Pat glared at him and then looked back at Giles. Xander glanced in her direction but quickly looked away in disgust. Pat lowered her head and spoke without looking up.   
  
"Aren't you going to let him see Faith before he goes?" she asked.   
  
"I don't think that would be wise, given the circumstances," replied Travers.   
  
"That's just it. We don't know what the circumstances are. We don't know what happened," said Pat, an edge to her voice.   
  
"That's not your concern. You have a job to do," scolded Travers. "This is your town now, Pat. Congratulations."   
  
Pat turned and left the room without looking at him. Xander noticed her leaving but wouldn't leave Giles.   
  
"Am...am I going home?" stuttered Giles absently.   
  
"Yes. For a little while. Just to get some rest," answered Xander.   
  
"Yes. Procedure. Must maintain...but, but I won't be here when she gets back!" said Giles, suddenly getting agitated.   
  
"When who comes back, Giles?" asked Xander, putting a hand on his arm to calm him.   
  
"Buffy. She's on patrol. Oh, she gets in late sometimes. Never did tell her how much I worry about her. I should tell her. But she comes back. She always comes home," nodded Giles, ignoring Xander's tightening grip on his arm.   
  
Xander let go of Giles' arm. He sat there in stunned silence.   
  
"She's not back yet, is she?" asked Giles anxiously, finally looking at Xander.   
  
"No. Not yet. But Buffy, she...she knows how to take care of herself. She'll be alright. We'll all be alright," managed Xander, forcing the words.   
  
Giles smiled and went back to staring at the floor.   
  
*****   
  
Dawn quietly pulled the door shut behind her and looked up at Willow and Tara. She shook her head once and glanced down at the hairbrush she held in her hand.   
  
"It's like she's not there. She won't even look at me. I told her everything, explained it twice. Nothing. Even combed her hair...Faith just sits there, staring at nothing."   
  
Dawn took a deep breath and twirled the brush in her hand.   
  
"I told her how sorry I was," shrugged Dawn.   
  
"Did you tell her about Giles?" asked Tara.   
  
"Not everything. But I told her how worried he is. Not that we really know. And...and I hinted kinda strongly what this did to him," sighed Dawn. "I don't think Faith's ready to hear the rest."   
  
"Want me to try?" asked Willow.   
  
"No!" said both Dawn and Tara at the same time. Willow's eye's shouted her dismay.   
  
"It's just that, well...Faith's emotions are all over the place right now. And I don't think she's afraid of you anymore so potentially bad combination there," frowned Dawn.   
  
Willow pouted and sulked away, going downstairs. Tara smiled and quickly covered her mouth with her hand.   
  
"What could possibly be funny?" asked Dawn.   
  
"Funny? Oh, no. Not funny. And bad timing and all. It's just, um...she's got the cutest pout," smiled Tara. Dawn rolled her eyes.   
  
"Tara, you think everything she does is cute. Like that time she used asterisks for her password on the computer!"   
  
"Yeah," giggled Tara. But her smile quickly faded.   
  
"That seems like such a long time ago," pouted Tara, glancing back behind her after Willow. "Now she thinks all I do is cling to her, like...sorry. Not your problem."   
  
Dawn nodded, somewhat embarrassed.   
  
"I'm going to try again. If she won't listen to me...well, she has to. It's that simple," nodded Dawn.   
  
"Good luck," encouraged Tara.   
  
Dawn pushed the door open and peered in. Faith was sitting on the floor next to the bed with her knees drawn up but didn't look over at her. Dawn shut the door behind her and sat down not at Faith's side but directly in front of her. Faith ignored her.   
  
"You hungry? I could go get you something," offered Dawn softly. Faith still didn't look at her but there was the slightest wince of pain around her eyes. Dawn tossed the brush she held onto the bed.   
  
"Everyone thinks that it wasn't Buffy. But...I'm not so sure anymore. See, this girl...well, she really wasn't thinking of herself. She put other's needs ahead of her own. And that's something my sister always did. Shouldn't surprise you. Buffy was a Slayer. Like you. This Karen seems to have had a little bit of that in her too, I guess."   
  
Faith still showed no signs that she had even heard Dawn.   
  
"And you know what? Karen's lying to us. She knows where her grave is...but she wants to punish herself. She doesn't think she deserves to be saved because of the things she's done. To others...to herself. Yeah, there's a little bit of Slayer in that girl."   
  
For the first time Faith looked at Dawn. Dawn gave her the smallest of grateful smiles.   
  
"I already lost one sister," whispered Dawn. "I don't think I could go on if I lost my other sister."   
  
Faith bit her lower lip and looked down. Dawn sat there for a moment then wiped her eyes with her hand. She stood up and walked to the door, pausing without looking back.   
  
"If what Karen told us is true, tonight is probably the last night she'd be able to appear to anyone. When you regret something, need to be forgiven...well, sometimes that's the hardest thing for anyone to ask for, you know?" said Dawn, choking back tears.   
  
Dawn left the room and the door clicked shut behind her. Faith closed her eyes.   
  
*****   
  
Willow paused in front of the door and took a deep breath, glancing down at the cup in her hands and trying not to spill its contents onto the carpet. She raised her hand to knock on the door but hesitated, her eyebrows knitting together.   
  
"Faith?" called out Willow, grabbing the door handle and slowly pushing open the door. Dawn was sitting on the bed.   
  
"She's gone," said Dawn.   
  
"Gone? But I was downstairs and I didn't..."   
  
Dawn nodded towards the open window.   
  
"Oh."   
  
"Look, she even made the bed. Faith never makes her bed," said Dawn, suddenly fighting back tears. "She's not coming back, is she?"   
  
Willow set the cup down on the floor and ran over to Dawn, sitting by her side.   
  
"Of course she will," comforted Willow, putting an arm around Dawn.   
  
"She didn't even say goodbye," sniffed Dawn.   
  
"Well, there you go! She wouldn't go without saying goodbye. And she's not going. She wouldn't leave you, Dawnie. You know that," smiled Willow. Dawn smiled hopefully.   
  
"I'm sure she just needed to patrol, let off a little steam. Probably smacking around some poor demon and seeing my face while she's doing it," grinned Willow. This time Dawn did smile.   
  
"That poor demon," whispered Willow, shaking her head.   
  
*****   
  
Faith stood at the end of the grave, trying to summon the courage to look up at the headstone.   
  
"Hey. Yeah, me again."   
  
Faith hesitated, unsure of how to go on.   
  
"Sure wish you had come back. They would've listened to you."   
  
Faith shifted her weight from one foot to the other.   
  
"Just wanted to tell you that Dawn's doing good. She really is. She's strong, like you...were. And I know I promised to watch over her. I'm keeping that promise. I am. It's just, see...I need some time alone, time to sort all this stuff out in my head. I'm not running away. I'm not."   
  
Faith paused, wondering if she was lying to herself.   
  
"I've heard a lot of harsh things about me lately. Maybe they're true. Hell, at least some of it is. So I need...shit, I don't know what I need. But Spike will look after Dawnie while I'm gone. And the others won't mind him being around. Not now. You can trust him with her. I do."   
  
Faith waited but the night was quiet and held no answers for her.   
  
"Well, I said what I needed to say. Be seein' ya."   
  
Faith stepped away from the grave but immediately turned back.   
  
"Um, about that be seein' ya part. I didn't mean the actual seeing, okay? 'Cause I really couldn't handle that right now."   
  
Faith smiled.   
  
"Guess you knew that. I know I've tried to say this before and...and I've tried to show you and, and the others," sniffed Faith, forcing the words out. "I really tried. But I don't know how or...hey, who am I kidding? I can never be forgiven. That's my burden now. You don't need to hear that. But I am sorry. I needed to say that one last time."   
  
Faith stared at the headstone, tears now in her eyes. She tenderly ran her fingers across the cold stone.   
  
"Goodbye, Joyce."   
  
*****   
  
Faith ran her hand along the smooth surface of the beech tree. She guessed that she had been standing there for about twenty minutes. And that was about twenty minutes longer than she liked.   
  
"Alright, Buffy or Karen or whoever the hell you are. You know I'm here so show yourself!"   
  
Faith slowly turned in a circle. The night was quiet. She was alone.   
  
"Look, I got until sunrise. So show yourself! You owe me that much, bitch! I'll be back tomorrow night...and the night after that...I know you're stuck here, so basically I guess you could say I'm going to haunt you until..."   
  
Faith didn't see her but suddenly knew that she wasn't alone. She looked back over her shoulder and there she stood, an arm's reach away by the water's edge. Even though Faith had prepared herself for this, seeing Buffy...or what looked like her...was almost unbearably painful. She forced herself not to look away, forced herself not to run to this girl and hug her fiercely.   
  
"What do you want?" challenged Buffy coldly.   
  
"I want to help you," answered Faith.   
  
"I don't want your help. Now leave me."   
  
"Or what, you'll huff and you'll puff and you'll blow an icy wind at me, maybe rattle a few bones? Look sister, I'm dead too so you ain't going to scare me, okay?" laughed Faith, one hand nonchalantly on her hip.   
  
Buffy ignored her but continued to stare at Faith.   
  
"You want peace? Well so do I! I've got enough guilt shackled to me to make Jacob Marley look like a saint and I don't need you to add another link to my chain. We both know that if you want your body found, I'm the only one who should do it," said Faith, jamming her thumb to her chest.   
  
Buffy looked down for a moment as if she were embarrassed.   
  
"And I'm the only one who can, right?" asked Faith, nodding towards the lake.   
  
"Why?" asked Buffy, her voice less than a whisper.   
  
"I'm not what you think I am. I'm a Slayer. It's..."   
  
Faith paused and then smiled.   
  
"It's my nature to help people. It's what I do."   
  
"I still don't understand. You...you're a vampire," winced Buffy, stating the obvious.   
  
"Okay, I'll cut ya a little slack with that 'cause I'd be wicked pissed too if the thing that killed me was standing in front of me."   
  
Faith frowned and lowered her voice, pleading with Buffy to understand, to make the connection.   
  
"I'm not like them. I have a soul."   
  
"How?" asked Buffy.   
  
"Long story."   
  
"The vamp who bit you had a soul?"   
  
"Okay, maybe not so long," shrugged Faith.   
  
Buffy closed her eyes. When she opened them Faith saw that she was crying.   
  
"Hey, I'm not asking for anything in return. Just help me...help you. It's a big lake, ya know? I could spend a few nights wading around out there when I could be out hunting down vampires instead," reminded Faith.   
  
Faith waited. Buffy covered her mouth with one hand and nodded. And Faith smiled.   
  
"Thank you," sniffed Buffy. "I'm sorry about..."   
  
"Don't. Don't you dare apologize. Let's just do this," warned Faith, anger rising in her voice. Buffy quickly nodded.   
  
"So, uh...any suggestions?" asked Faith, nodding towards the water.   
  
"Faith, there is something I might be able to give to you in return. I can't promise...but I'll try."   
  
"Yeah? What?"   
  
"After...I mean, I might be able to give a message...to Buffy."   
  
Faith just stared, genuinely thrown.   
  
"Oh. Wow, um...okay, just...just tell her I'm sorry. No. No, let's keep it simple. Just tell her we miss her. And Dawn's okay."   
  
Buffy waited, expecting more, then nodded. Her eyes opened wide as Faith began removing her clothes. Pulling her top over her head, Faith smiled.   
  
"Like what you see?" teased Faith. Buffy shook free of her stare and looked away.   
  
"Didn't know a ghost could blush," laughed Faith, undoing her pants. Buffy still didn't look at her.   
  
"Just don't want to get my clothes wet. Already went for a swim here. And these had better be here when I get back or I'll feed your bones to a certain junkyard dog I know," glared Faith.   
  
Buffy looked upset at first. But then she smiled.   
  
END OF PART ELEVEN


	12. Twelve

Title: Shadows and Regrets   
  
PART TWELVE   
  
Tara woke, feeling the chill in the air and wondering if Willow had hogged the blankets again. But Willow's place in the bed next to her was empty and the sheet covered Tara completely. Sitting up, she saw Willow standing by the open window and realized why the room was cold.   
  
"Willow?"   
  
Willow turned and Tara smiled, so grateful to see that her eyes were normal.   
  
"Did I wake you?" asked Willow. "I just wanted a little fresh air."   
  
"No, I...I'm not sure. Maybe it was the cold air," shrugged Tara.   
  
"Sorry. I'll shut the window."   
  
"No, you don't have to," said Tara. But Willow closed it anyway and came back to lay next to Tara.   
  
"You feel okay?" asked Tara. Willow nodded.   
  
"Yeah. Just thinking. Hard to sleep and think at the same time," smiled Willow.   
  
"Whatcha thinking about?" asked Tara, slipping her arm around Willow.   
  
"Oh, we'd better wait until morning for this conversation," sighed Willow, nuzzling Tara's shoulder.   
  
"Oh, sure! Now I won't be able to sleep, wondering what you're wondering about."   
  
Willow pouted but Tara stared at her.   
  
"Okay, I give! You know I can't win a stare contest with you. It's about...Buffy," said Willow. She felt Tara stiffen next to her ever so slightly.   
  
"Go on," encouraged Tara hesitantly.   
  
"Well, Karen said that we did contact her. But she was scared. What could Buffy be afraid of? I'm not a likin' it and now I'm all worried."   
  
"Willow, I don't think...what I mean is, I know I can't tell you how to feel, but you shouldn't dwell on this. There's nothing we can do about it. We tried to contact her. Maybe simply doing that frightened her."   
  
"But see, there is something we can do," said Willow, sitting up on one elbow. Tara frowned, not understanding.   
  
"Well, there's something I can do if we, meaning you, agree to help me," hinted Willow.   
  
"No. No, you can't be even thinking about this," said Tara, sitting up. Willow sat up and crossed her arms.   
  
"Why not? What if Buffy isn't so much afraid as she's in pain? Tara, I have to know."   
  
"Willow, please..."   
  
"We have almost everything we would need," interrupted Willow. "I know my limits. I know what I'm capable of doing."   
  
"Being able to do it doesn't make it right!" cried Tara, raising her voice. But she saw that Willow had already made up her mind. Tara swallowed and looked down, taking in a deep breath.   
  
"Tara, I need your help. I can't do it without you," said Willow, gently touching Tara's arm. Tara glanced at her hand but looked away.   
  
"Bringing her back...Willow, I don't know. You're messing with some primal stuff here," winced Tara.   
  
"She could be trapped in Glory's dimension, in an eternity of torture! Tara...at least think about it. Okay?" pleaded Willow.   
  
"Willow, Giles is hurting and Faith...what I mean is, how can you even think about this right now?"   
  
"Because there's nothing I can do for them. This is something I can do," she answered.   
  
Tara nodded and got out of bed.   
  
"I'm going to check on Dawn and, um, get a drink of water," said Tara, still not looking at Willow.   
  
"Sure. And honey? Thanks for listening. I was worried you'd wig out over this. I know..."   
  
"No, Willow. You don't know. That's what is so wrong about this," said Tara, raising her head up to look at her. Willow frowned but still looked defiant. Tara left the room and shut the door behind her.   
  
Willow turned the light on and reached under the bed to retrieve a book. Flipping it open to a well worn page, she began to read. Glancing up once to look at the door, she continued to read, pulling the covers up around her. After a few minutes she decided the room was getting too cold and slid out of bed to close the window.   
  
She had taken three steps before she remembered that she had already closed the window. Turning, she caught her reflection in the mirror. And she smiled. Her eyes were completely black. Willow put the book back under the bed and turned off the light. She closed her eyes and soon fell asleep, ignoring the cold that surrounded her.   
  
Tara passed Dawn's room but her bed was empty. She made her way downstairs and found Dawn sleeping on the couch. The television set was on, some woman selling silver jewelry to all the insomniacs up at this hour. Smiling, Tara pulled the blanket up over Dawn and she stirred but didn't wake. Picking up the remote, Tara clicked off the television and set the remote back down on the couch next to Dawn.   
  
Waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark, Tara turned...and a hand suddenly and firmly covered her mouth. Tara's eyes opened wide with fright. She was looking at Faith. Faith put a finger up to her lips and nodded towards Dawn. Tara tried to nod. Her eyes remained wide open. Faith slowly eased her hand from Tara's mouth and, as if to reassure her, took Tara's hand in hers and led her into the kitchen.   
  
"I hate it when you do that!" whispered Tara, looking back to see if Dawn was awake.   
  
"What, hold your hand?" smiled Faith.   
  
"You know what I mean," glared Tara, though her face quickly softened into a grateful smile. "I'm glad you came back."   
  
"Whatever. I'm not staying. Only here to pick up a few things."   
  
"Oh. So, um, where you going?" asked Tara.   
  
"Don't know yet. Doesn't really matter as long as it's not Sunnydale," shrugged Faith.   
  
"But...Faith, you weren't going to say goodbye? Not even to Dawn?"   
  
Faith looked as if Tara had just punched her in the stomach.   
  
"I don't know if I can do that. Thought I'd leave a note or, or a letter or something," frowned Faith.   
  
"A note," repeated Tara with contempt.   
  
"Yeah, it sounds even lamer hearing it out loud."   
  
Faith turned and began pacing back and forth.   
  
"Don't suppose you could tell her?" begged Faith.   
  
"Oh, I get it. You want to break her heart but you want me to deliver the message. And I thought Slayers weren't afraid of anything," said Tara bitterly. Faith ran a hand over her face, covering her mouth with it and gazing at Tara.   
  
"Sorry," muttered Faith.   
  
"Where have you been? Dawn was so worried," hinted Tara.   
  
"Okay, stop playing your trump card. I know I have to talk to her. Where was I? I had some unfinished business to take care of."   
  
Even before Tara could form a confused frown, Faith answered.   
  
"With Karen."   
  
"Oh. So what exactly did you do?" asked Tara.   
  
"I set her free or sent her home or, well, you know," said Faith, throwing her hands up in the air.   
  
"Wait, you wanted to help her? And she let you?"   
  
"Yeah. On both counts," answered Faith defiantly.   
  
"Oh."   
  
Tara looked at Faith, looked away, then glanced at her again.   
  
"So, it was pretty intense, wasn't it? Experiencing how she died, I mean," said Tara.   
  
"Um, yeah. I guess."   
  
"You...guess?"   
  
"Well, what I mean is, intense? Sure it was. But...but I don't know how Karen died," whispered Faith.   
  
"Huh? But you said you helped her, that..."   
  
"Tara, it was different for me. Maybe, maybe because I'm already dead. I don't know."   
  
Tara stared at faith, unsure of what to say.   
  
"Karen's gone, there's no doubt about that. But...I relived my own death, not hers," winced Faith.   
  
"Oh, Faith. No."   
  
"Just as fun the second time around, might I add," replied Faith, rolling her eyes. "Why, Tara? Haven't I been put through enough shit already?"   
  
"I'm sorry," shrugged Tara. Faith nodded. They were both quiet now, uncomfortably lost in their own thoughts. Tara moved over next to Faith.   
  
"Will you talk to Willow before you go? She wanted..."   
  
"No."   
  
"But Faith..."   
  
"No," repeated Faith firmly. "What, she feels bad about what happened? Not my problem. And you don't want your girlfriend around me now, Tara. I just don't trust myself yet. Understand?" asked Faith, making it perfectly clear what might happen. Tara grimaced but nodded.   
  
"Do me a favor. Go wake up Dawn. I need to do something first," said Faith.   
  
"Sure," said Tara, taking a step to go but then hesitating. "Faith, you're not just trying to make me leave so that you can disappear, are you? Dawn needs to see you."   
  
Faith ignored her and opened the refrigerator, holding up a white plastic cup.   
  
"Oh," nodded Tara, still not leaving. Faith looked at her, knowing Tara needed to say something.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Faith, I don't know if this means anything to you, but I don't want you to go either. I'll miss you."   
  
Faith smiled.   
  
"Thanks," she whispered. Tara smiled and went into the living room, kneeling down next to Dawn. She shook her shoulder and whispered her name.   
  
"Dawn. Hey, Dawnie. Wake up."   
  
Startled, Dawn's eyes popped open.   
  
"Tara!," she shouted, sitting up. Dawn looked around, suddenly realizing where she was.   
  
"Hey, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" asked Tara.   
  
"Um, yeah. I thought I was in my bed and you called out my name from your bedroom during...uh, you know, I, I um, can't really remember the rest," winced Dawn, her face obviously red even in the dark. Tara tried not to smile.   
  
"Why did you wake me up?" asked Dawn.   
  
"There's someone here who wants to see you," smiled Tara. Dawn's eyes opened wide as she look past Tara. She bounded up from the couch and practically tackled Faith.   
  
"I knew you'd come back!" grinned Dawn, hugging Faith tightly. Faith closed her eyes, smiling, and hugged Dawn back. But then Dawn eased herself away and looked up at Faith.   
  
"You're not staying, are you?" whispered Dawn. Faith bit her lower lip, unable to look at Dawn.   
  
"What, things get tough so you're going to run away? Again?" yelled Dawn.   
  
"No! No, I'm coming back. I promise. But Dawn, I need..."   
  
Faith stopped, seeing how upset Dawn was. She forced herself to go on.   
  
"Dawn, I need some time alone. Just for a little while. You can't...I know I promised..."   
  
"Faith, you've been alone your whole life! Look what it's done to you!" snapped Dawn.   
  
Faith closed her eyes and quickly turned around, her head hanging low.   
  
"Oh, oh Faith! I'm sorry! I didn't mean..."   
  
Dawn pulled at Faith's arm, forcing her around and again hugging her. Faith slowly responded and hugged her back.   
  
"I'm sorry! I'm being selfish. I just don't want you to go," cried Dawn. "I don't want to be alone."   
  
"I know," nodded Faith. Tara watched, her mouth open, suddenly wondering if they had done enough over the past month to help Dawn. Wondering if she had.   
  
"I can't begin to understand what you're dealing with. I, I just want to help," said Dawn, looking up at Faith.   
  
"Dawnie you, more than anyone, can understand. But I need to sort some stuff out. And I'll call. Lots. I promise. I just can't be here right now," said Faith, wiping her eye.   
  
Dawn nodded and pressed her face against Faith again. Faith glanced at Tara and mouthed the words 'thank you' to her. Tara smiled and went into the kitchen to leave them alone.   
  
"Do you have to leave tonight?" whispered Dawn.   
  
"I'm afraid so," answered Faith. "Can you do me a favor?"   
  
"Anything, Faith. Anything."   
  
"Stop sneaking off to see Spike. Invite him here. If the others don't like it tell them when I get back I'm going to kick some ass, big time," smiled Faith.   
  
Dawn looked up at Faith and smiled but her smile quickly faded.   
  
"Faith, I liked Matthieu. I wish..."   
  
Faith put a finger over Dawn's lips.   
  
"Shh. I know. Thanks," nodded Faith.   
  
*****   
  
Dawn stood in the doorway of Faith's bedroom and leaned her head against the door. Something was different, out of place, but she couldn't figure out what. The room was dark, the perfectly made bed highlighted only by the moonlight coming through the window. And then she understood. When Faith was here the shades were always drawn shut.   
  
With a silent sigh Dawn ventured into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. She folded her hands on her lap and stared at the pillow next to her.   
  
"Want to hear about my day?"   
  
Dawn smiled and affectionately ran her fingers across the cold comforter.   
  
"Nothing exceptional about it really. Wasn't too hot...it didn't rain...in fact, most people won't remember this day. It'll just blend in with all the rest, lost in the blur of summer. But it was special. Well, for me anyway. See, I didn't cry. Not once. So...yay me," said Dawn, whispering the last two words.   
  
Dawn chewed on her lower lip and then remembered that Faith seemed to do that a lot. She smiled again. Briefly.   
  
"I went to his grave today. Oh, there's no headstone yet. But I brought some flowers. Daisies. Don't know if he liked those," shrugged Dawn. "I mean, I never really got a chance to know Matthieu. Guess you didn't either, come to think of it. And daisies? What was I thinking? I should've brought something that had a stronger fragrance, you know?"   
  
Dawn closed her eyes. The only sound was the ticking of the clock.   
  
"Did, did you know that the grave faces west? Towards the beach. Yeah, I know he...but you always liked the beach."   
  
Dawn slowly looked around the room. Everything was exactly as Faith had left it.   
  
"So...how was your night?"   
  
The room was quiet. Even the clock didn't seem as loud as before. Dawn stood, quickly smoothing the covers with her hand. She walked over to the shelf and picked the clock up with both hands as if it were an egg and she might crack its shell. This had belonged to Giles. Buffy had liked it and for some reason that she didn't understand, Faith had too.   
  
Dawn walked back into her own bedroom and set the clock down on her dresser. She looked at it for a moment then lowered her head. Eyes closed, she listened to the soothing ticking that for some reason had connected three people that had been very important to her. Had been. No, they didn't belong to the past. Not yet. They were still very important to her.   
  
Dawn raised her head, listening more than looking around the dark bedroom.   
  
"Buffy, I know you were here before. And I don't know if you can hear me now, or, or if you can even understand what I'm feeling where you are. But you were here. And you didn't talk to me. Why? What were you afraid of?"   
  
Dawn glanced at the clock, ignoring the steady ticking. Just next to the clock was a photo of her and Buffy and her mom. Dawn had to look away.   
  
"Buffy...I miss you."   
  
Dawn glanced at the clock. It wasn't quite midnight yet. And again she hadn't made it through a day without crying.   
  
*****   
  
The vampire was tiring. She tempted him by turning her back as if to ignore him and this, as expected, enraged him. He charged, she spun low and his knee met her heel with a sickening crack. The Slayer stood above him, smiling.   
  
"Who are you?" he demanded, trying to mask the fear in his voice.   
  
"Me? I'm the new kid in town."   
  
Pat drove the stake down through his chest, feeling it lodge in the ground under him. She pulled it free just as the vampire burst into ash. Smiling, her first instinct was to listen, to feel her surroundings. Pat slowly stood, eager for another opponent but confidently knowing this one had been alone when she had attacked him.   
  
Pat pivoted on her heels and threw the stake hard. Spike caught it just before it would have hit his chest.   
  
"Hey! That was awfully rude!" yelled Spike.   
  
"Oh, come on Spike! It's not like I was aiming at your heart. Can't a girl have a little fun?"   
  
Spike frowned, shifting the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. Pat approached him and he held the stake out to her but she ignored it. Instead, she yanked the cigarette from his lips and took a deep drag from it. He gaped at her as she slid it back between his lips and took the stake.   
  
"Speaking of fun, seems to me you were toying with that vamp. Didn't know you were such a big tease," said Spike with half a smile.   
  
"Wasn't much of a challenge. Had to make it...interesting. You don't get the same rush after the kill if he's so stupid he couldn't push a broom if you shoved it up his..."   
  
"I get the idea. So what are you doing for fun these days?" asked Spike.   
  
"You mean besides killing things?" grinned Pat.   
  
"Yeah. Besides that," nodded Spike.   
  
"Well, I've been hanging out at the Bronze. You should stop by sometime."   
  
"You want to dance with me?" smiled Spike.   
  
"Maybe. Buy me a drink and we'll see," hinted Pat suggestively.   
  
"A drink. You're only sixteen!"   
  
"So? Got a fake ID now. And the bartenders don't usually even ask for it if I flirt a little," laughed Pat.   
  
Spike raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Hey, I've got this gig all figured out," shrugged Pat.   
  
"Do you now?"   
  
"Sure. Buffy was the best. If they can get her how long can I last? Gotta live each day to the max, ya know? "Cause, well, you never know," winked Pat.   
  
Spike frowned and shook his head, taking another drag from his cigarette.   
  
"So, how's Dawn holding up?" asked Pat.   
  
"Okay. Why don't you drop by and give your regards?" suggested Spike.   
  
"If it was only her I might. Already extended the olive branch. Well, maybe not the whole branch. Maybe just a leaf or two. But I can take a hint," sighed Pat.   
  
"Can you now? So, you're still living out of that dump masquerading as a motel, you're drinking, you're smoking...and you're alone. Word of advice. Make friends with the Scoobies. You're going to need them," glared Spike.   
  
"No can do. I had a great teacher, Spike. You just can't trust people," answered Pat firmly.   
  
"Is that so? You remind me of her, so much, but Faith didn't teach you that. She believed it once, a long time ago. But..."   
  
"Who said I was talking about Faith?" challenged Pat.   
  
Spike stared at her for a moment and then nodded his understanding. Tossing his cigarette on the ground, grinding it out with his boot, he smiled. But it was a cold smile.   
  
"So much talent, so much potential...and you have no idea how effortlessly this seems to come to you. You're so much like her. And you're going to end up just like her," said Spike, sadly shaking his head.   
  
"A vampire? Nah, not a chance," smiled Pat. "I'll die first."   
  
"Yes, you will. Who said I was talking about Faith?" asked Spike, smiling right back.   
  
Pat's smile quickly faded.   
  
"See ya around, kid," said Spike, no longer smiling.   
  
Pat just stood there and watched him walk away as he merged with the shadows at the edge of the cemetery.   
  
THE END


End file.
